


The Hart and the Lion

by chains_archivist



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys in Chains, M/M, Slaves, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 92,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Cita</p><p>Daniel el-Rydal's new purchase brings sorrow and more happiness than he can imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

Daniel el-Rydal walked down the dusty street, ignoring the shouts of the merchants whose shops lined the narrow thoroughfare.  He had finished almost all of his shopping earlier that afternoon.  All his purchases were back at the inn with his horse, packed neatly into two saddlebags, the weight carefully and evenly distributed between the two leather pouches.  Daniel loved his horse, Zeina, and he was not the kind of man who was careless with a prized possession.   
  
He had one last purchase to make, and then he could leave this cramped, smelly, filthy town, where one could not turn around without the hem of one's robe brushing against an infidel or merchant.  Two days in this hell-hole was more than enough for any sane man, and Daniel el-Rydal was eminently sane.   
  
His footsteps faltered for a moment.  Was it sane to be doing this?  It was true that he needed a slave to tend to his needs.  It was true that the child who was his wife would not be beddable for another several years, at least.  It was also true that a single purchase was more economical and sensible than two.  A woman would not be able to perform some of the tasks necessary, therefore he would purchase a man.  And he would bed a man.   
  
Daniel el-Rydal's knees turned to water at the thought.   
  
"Control!" he chided himself.  Straightening his shoulders, he turned down the narrow side-street to the slave market.   
  
The crush of people was worse there.  That, and the stench.  Heavily perfumed merchants filled the air with cloying scents, underscored by the stink of the unwashed bodies of slaves, their filth and fear mixing in a stomach-churning odor.  Daniel moved from stall to stall, passing over the ranks of females, concentrating on the men lined up for inspection.   
  
By the second hour, Daniel was beginning to despair.  The men displayed were either skinny boys, who looked too malnourished to work, or old men, wrinkled and toothless.  He turned away from a boy who looked no older than eight, his attention drawn by a commotion at one end of the market. Wandering over, he saw a group of men -- real *men* -- being herded into a corral.   
  
Daniel scanned the men, noticing their bearing, their muscular thighs and arms, their broad chests, the wild look in their eyes.  Soldiers.  Warriors. From the look of their features and hair, they were from the north.  He sighed.  It was a shame.  The first real men he had seen, but they would be terrible slaves until they had been broken, and Daniel didn't have the time or inclination to break in a new slave.   
  
Turning, he noticed a tall, slender man standing at the back of the corral. His hair was greasy and long, dirt caked his body, like it did with the others, but he did not look like a warrior.  Curious, Daniel walked closer, his eyes fixed on the man.  Something strange was happening to his insides -- they felt warm and strangely attenuated, as if they were being plucked from within him.  His cock stirred.   
  
He grabbed the sleeve of the slave-seller standing proprietarily outside the corral.  "That man," he said, pointing, "where is he from?"   
  
"Him?"  The seller grinned at Daniel.  "You have a good eye, sir.  He came with the northern soldiers, but he isn't one.  He's educated and," his voice dropped, "he can *read* and *write*."   
  
"I'd like to see him."   
  
The seller led Daniel to a small shop at the side of the corral.  He summoned a houseslave and ordered him to bring the young man to them, then motioned Daniel to a low divan and poured him a drink.   
  
There was a hubbub and shouting outside the tent, and the slave suddenly appeared at end of the shop.  His arms were tied tightly behind him, his feet were hobbled, and he was half-choked on a loop of rope around his neck, which was tied to a chain dangling from the ceiling.  He glared at Daniel and muttered under his breath. Daniel thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.   
  
Rising, Daniel circled the slave, checking him for skin lesions and other diseases beneath the encrusted dirt.  He bent and lifted the slave's slack penis and scrotum.  The slave yelled something before he was choked by the rope, but Daniel ignored him and continued around his body, spreading his asscheeks and checking his hole.  It looked tight and healthy.  His cock filled, pushing against the soft cotton of his trousers.   
  
"He's a virgin," said the seller proudly.   
  
"How much?"  Daniel stared at the slave, but he could see a complacent look cross the seller's face.   
  
"Fifteen hundred."   
  
Daniel snorted.  "One thousand." It was more than he wanted to spend, but well within his budget.   
  
"Fourteen."   
  
"One thousand fifty."   
  
"Oh, please, sir."  The seller rolled his eyes and shrugged.  "Thirteen."   
  
"Eleven."   
  
"Twelve."   
  
"Done."   
  
"Congratulations, sir!  I'm sure you will be very happy with him.  How would you like to take him?"   
  
Daniel glanced at the slave, who suddenly looked bewildered and a little frightened.  "Here, but I want him cleaned up first.  Washed inside *and* out."  He took out his purse as the slave was led out and counted out the money.   
  
He heard the spluttering, indignant yells from outside and his cock hardened further.  He took a shaky breath as the seller led him into a small room at the back, the only furniture a low wooden bench and a pile of worn cushions. The seller placed a small bowl of oil beside the bench, along with a well-washed towel, and then disappeared out the back.   
  
Daniel el-Rydal thoughtfully stroked his hard cock.  He had never taken a man before, much less a virgin...   
  
He sat back on the cushions and waited. 


	2. Chapter 2

In a few minutes the slave -- *his* slave -- was dragged into the room, still dripping.  He shook the wet hair out of his face and blinked at the relative dimness of the room, compared with the bright sunlight outside.   
  
"Dry him off," said Daniel, rising.  Two of the house slaves disappeared for a moment, returning with towels, while the heavily-muscled one held fast to the rope around his slave's neck.  They dried him off roughly, his slave barely tolerating their touches.  "Comb his hair and tie it back," Daniel added, his eyes casting over the brown arms and legs, the creamy, pale torso and ass that the water had revealed.  His insides quivered with anticipation, and he reached out, trailing his fingers down the patch of hair gracing his slave's chest, so different from his own hairless one.   
  
His slave started and pulled back, yelling something in his uncouth northern tongue, but was immediately jerked back by the rope.  He snarled at Daniel, but remained still as his hair was sketchily combed out and tied back with a thong.  Daniel could see his face clearly now.  Brown eyes, narrowed suspiciously, a noble brow, high cheekbones, lips that Daniel would swear were as soft as a woman's, and a stubborn chin.  He would not submit easily, Daniel knew, but once he did...  Daniel's cock throbbed at the thought, and he recalled himself.  He was leaving within the hour, and he still had to take his slave, then return to the inn and be well outside the city's rural perimeter by nightfall.   
  
"Tie him down," he ordered, his eyes lingering on those lips.  There was no time to try kissing now, but soon, he'd nibble and suck them to his heart's content.   
  
As soon as his slave realized that he was being led toward the bench, he began to fight in earnest.  Two more house slaves were called in -- huge, burly men with arms like tree-trunks -- and it wasn't long before he was face-down on the bench, his arms tied to the front legs, his knees tied to the back, his ass raised.  Daniel waved away the gag that one slave offered. He wanted to hear his slave's voice as he was taken for the first time.   
  
Dismissing the house slaves, he ran his hand down the long, tense back and cupped the soft ass.  His slave was still yelling, his voice growing hoarse, and he clenched his ass cheeks together as Daniel ran a finger down his cleft.  When Daniel rubbed over his hole he screamed in anger, his face red and congested, and struggled against his bonds.  But they had been well-secured, and Daniel had no fear that he would go free.   
  
Mindful of the passing time, Daniel dipped his finger in the oil and plunged it deep inside his slave's body.  An ear-splitting scream greeted that action, and Daniel was tempted to ask for the gag.  However, his father had taught him that expectations should be immediately established with horses and slaves, and that patience is necessary in these cases, so he kept one finger inside the wiggling ass and brought his other hand down on one cheek, smacking hard.   
  
There was a screech of surprise and then the yelling continued.  He thrust his finger in and out once, then smacked the other cheek.  A moment of stunned silence was immediately rewarded with a kiss to one reddened cheek and a twist of the finger within.  His slave trembled and let out a whimper. When he started yelling again, Daniel dealt another savage blow to that enticing ass.   
  
Silence.   
  
Bestowing a kiss on the other cheek, Daniel quickly withdrew his finger, dipped two in the oil, and pressed them inside.  His slave panted heavily, a brief moan escaping when Daniel twisted his fingers and dragged them along the inside of his slave's gut.  Goosebumps marched along his ass and thighs and he shivered.  Daniel nodded to himself.  Good.   
  
He pulled out his fingers and carefully opened his robes and trousers.  His cock was rock hard and weeping.  It took only a moment to oil it and place it against his slave's hole.  His slave bucked forward, not moving much because of the bench, but struggling hard against his bonds.  Keeping the head of his cock in place, Daniel paused and ran his hands soothingly over the quivering back and flanks.   
  
"Hush, hush," he said quietly.  "If you relax it will be good, I will make it good for you, and every time I take you I will make it good..."  His hands stroked and caressed, and the tense body beneath him began to relax. "Yes, yes, don't try to keep me out, let me in, always let me in, you are mine..."   
  
He pushed forward, the muscle beneath him clenching, but he continued to press, and suddenly the oil-slick hole opened enough for him to breach.  His slave bit back a scream and choked out some words, his voice filled with pain.  Daniel paused for a moment and then shoved the rest of the way in. He moaned luxuriously -- his slave's ass was as hot and tight as he had hoped.   
  
"Control!" he ground out, his teeth clenched as he tried not to explode on the spot.  "How would it look if I spent my seed on the first thrust like a young boy?" he chided, holding himself still with effort.  His hands gripped the narrow hips like iron, and he loosened his grip slightly.  His slave's shallow gasps evened out and he relaxed a little.  Only then did Daniel begin to move.   
  
He kept his strokes long and deep, smoothly pumping in and out of that tight, reddening hole.  His slave grew quiet, only an occasional moan breaking the silence.  Daniel increased the pace of his strokes, slamming into the creamy ass so hard that his balls smacked against his slave's shrunken scrotum.  A shudder passed through the body beneath him and he heard a strangled wail and then sobbing.   
  
The sounds triggered his orgasm, and he filled his slave's hole with his come, thrusting deeply in an effort to ensure that all of it stayed inside. As soon as he carefully pulled out, a house slave, who had obviously been listening, stepped in and offered Daniel a heavy, but narrow, weighted plug. Daniel oiled it thoroughly and placed it at the red, twitching hole, then shoved it inside.  His slave shouted once, the sound thick and wet.  Daniel wiped himself off with the towel and fastened his clothing, walking around to look at his slave's tear-stained face.  His eyes were squeezed shut, and acting on some unfathomable impulse, Daniel leaned down and kissed his cheek.   
  
Eyes flew open and Daniel met his accusing stare unflinchingly.  "We will go now," he said calmly, although he knew his slave could not understand him. These northerners never bothered to learn other tongues.  He scanned his memory for a word or two he had once heard in their barbaric language, although he had no idea why he should bother.   
  
"Home," he said finally, hoping he remembered the word correctly. The brown eyes looked surprised, then closed and the head turned away.   
  
Daniel sighed and motioned to the house slaves.  "Prepare him for the journey."  The slave-seller appeared at the doorway and offered him a farewell drink -- luck for his journey.  Daniel ignored the growing commotion behind him and accepted the offer gratefully.   
  
He suspected he was going to need his strength over the next few days.


	3. Chapter 3

In a surprisingly short period of time his slave appeared at the door, ready for their journey.  He wore a short tunic and sandals, and the rope bindings were replaced with heavy leather cuffs around his throat, wrists and ankles. His wrists were bound tightly together in front, his ankles attached to a hobble, which was suspended by a short chain dangling from his wrists, so that he wouldn't stumble or trip over it as they walked.   
  
His slave swallowed convulsively as Daniel raised his winecup to his lips, his eyes fixed on the cup.   
  
"Give him something to drink," Daniel ordered, and turned to the seller. "When was the last time he was given food?"   
  
The seller thought for a moment.  "Yesterday they were fed, I believe."  He shrugged.  "Or perhaps the day before."   
  
Daniel watched as his slave drank the proffered water eagerly, not caring if it spilt over his chin and down his tunic.  When the cup was empty and the house slave turned to leave, he made a small noise deep in his throat and looked at Daniel beseechingly.   
  
"Give him another."  Daniel spoke curtly, well aware of the passage of time. Still, it would be negligent not to see to his slave's immediate needs. After all, he would do as much for his beloved horse, and there was no use in purchasing a slave who could not work due to hunger or thirst.  Daniel had been taught contempt for those owners who treated their slaves worse than their animals.  It made no economic sense.  Daniel busied himself checking over his purchase papers and the small bag that the seller had provided as the water was poured and the cup held to his slave's lips.   
  
When his slave had finished the second cup, he nodded to the burly house slave who held the chain attached to his slave's collar and walked out the door.  They were a few steps down the street when his slave began to yell again, his shouts garnering responses from the northern warriors still in the corral.  Daniel tolerated it for a minute -- he would want to bid his companions goodbye -- but when it continued, he stopped and strode back to where his slave was standing, pulling on the chain held by the house slave and shouting.  Daniel walked up to him -- his slave's mouth snapped shut and he flinched, his eyes showing their whites.   
  
"Patience," Daniel reminded himself and he took a calming breath.   
  
He placed a finger on his slave's lips.  "You will be quiet," he said softly.  "You will not embarrass me in public, or you will be punished." The brown eyes blinked, hints of panic in their depths, and then his slave jerked away and let loose with a long string of uncouth shouts.   
  
Daniel watched him for a second and then gestured to the house slave, who grabbed his slave's collar at the front and pulled until he was bent over, his pale ass shining below the short-cut back of his tunic, the end of the plug showing between those soft cheeks.  The shouting stopped as his slave choked, half-strangled by the house slave's thick fingers.   
  
Daniel stepped up to his slave and held him firmly by the waist, then let loose with a rain of blows on his up-turned ass.  The pale flesh turned pink, then rose, and finally crimson as his hand dealt blow after blow. Muffled cries and screeches issued from his slave, but he was implacable. He would *not* be embarrassed by a possession, and the sooner his slave learned this, the better.  Daniel ignored the comments and stares of a few of the curious.  This was between him and his slave.   
  
He finally stopped when he heard sobs, his hand stinging and red itself.  He released his slave's waist, and his slave would have fallen over if the house slave had not caught him and levered him upright.  Daniel gazed impassively at the fresh tear-tracks on his slave's miserable face, and quickly stifled an unaccountable urge to cup his cheek and kiss them away.   
  
"Quickly," he said to the house slave, and watched as he led his slave down the street, chains rattling.  His slave's scarlet ass shone like a beacon under the shortened back of his tunic, his mincing walk due to the spanking and plug, as much as to the hobble.  Daniel caught the glances of a few passers-by, a few gazing longingly at his slave's exotic looks, lustful eyes moving to his ass and the public mark of possession there.   
  
Daniel hurried to catch up with them, and led them to the inn.   
  
He purchased bread and fruit on their way, acutely conscious of the way his slave sniffed hungrily and eyed the bag.  Once they were beyond the city walls, Daniel would allow him to eat.  He had purchased a second horse yesterday, one who was sturdy and tough, good as a pack animal and yet with enough spirit to make riding enjoyable.  Daniel decided to call her Salimeh, and his slave would ride her. The stable boy placed the double pack of Daniel's purchases on Salimeh's back and lashed it to the saddle.  Then the house slave, at Daniel's direction, hoisted his slave up and chained him to the saddle, leaving enough slack so that he could bring his hands up to his mouth.  Daniel insisted that a thick piece of toweling be placed between his slave's bare ass and the saddle -- he would be sore enough by nightfall from the plug alone -- causing additional damage to his property through negligence would be idiotic.   
  
Then Salimeh was securely tethered to Zeina's saddle, Daniel tipped the house slave and ordered him back to the seller.  He cast a critical eye over his slave's seat on Salimeh and hoped that his awkwardness was due to the chains and discomfort, and not to an inability to ride.  That could make their journey into a nightmare.   
  
Still, it was too late to worry about that now.  They had a long way to go, and first, they'd have to pass through the city gates.  Daniel glanced at his slave, shifting gingerly on the saddle.  He hoped the guards wouldn't hold them up for long, and swiftly calculated how much baksheesh he could afford.  He also uttered a brief prayer that his slave would not embarrass him again, although knowing the guards' habits, he didn't really believe that that particular prayer would be answered. 


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel urged Zeina through the bustling streets, Salimeh obediently following on her tether.  So far his slave had merely sat quietly, but Daniel wondered if the sight of the city gates would stir him.   
  
They moved as quickly as possible down a broad thoroughfare, Zeina breasting the thick clots of people steadily.  She was not easily spooked, and Daniel trusted her implicitly.  Once or twice Salimeh snorted and tugged on the tether, but she did not appear to be doing more than reacting to the dust and incessant noise.   
  
Rounding a corner, the city walls stood before them, the broad gates flung open to permit passage.  Daniel urged Zeina toward the guard-house.  The fact that he had bought a new slave had to be noted in their books, and his papers of purchase would be examined.  As would his slave.   
  
Daniel stole a glance at his newest possession and breathed a sigh of relief.  He was balancing better on Salimeh and looking around curiously at the bustle of humanity.  A guard hailed him as they approached, his face splitting into a wide grin as he caught sight of his slave's chains.   
  
"Ah, I see you've made a purchase, sir," he said, catching hold of Zeina's bridle.  "May I see your papers?"   
  
Daniel had them ready, along with a small amount of baksheesh.  He knew he would have to pay more, but it was always useful to start the palm-greasing process early.  His father had taught him that.  After tying Zeina to a post beside the guard-house door, the guard examined the papers, pretending that he could read, and pocketed the money.   
  
"Please come with me, sir," he said to Daniel, indicating the guard-house, where his superior sat, waiting to examine the papers again, and for his cut.  Daniel stood silently before the old man as the papers were read and the money disappeared into small pockets secreted about his uniform.  With a nod he rose and gestured for Daniel to follow him back outside.   
  
His slave waited patiently on Salimeh.  "Of course, he doesn't have much of a choice, does he," thought Daniel.  "He's chained to the saddle."   
  
The Captain of the Guard walked up to his slave, eyes traveling up and down his body hungrily as he circled the horse.  Daniel swallowed, and stepped close to Salimeh's neck, a hair's-breadth from his slave's tense leg and fisted hands.   
  
"Bend forward!" the Captain barked.   
  
His slave looked at Daniel in confusion.   
  
"Captain, he is a barbarian and does not speak our tongue."  Daniel spoke quickly, forestalling a repetition of the order.   
  
The Captain snorted.  "Very well, then.  Have him bend over.  I'll check his mark myself."   
  
Daniel smiled a little, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, but his slave didn't seem to be reassured.  He reached up and grasped his bony shoulder, pulling him down to lean over Salimeh's neck.   
  
"Don't worry," he murmured as his slave followed his direction.  The brown eyes never left his face, as if searching for something, and Daniel could hear his slave's nervous breaths speed up.   
  
Keeping his hand on his slave's shoulder, Daniel moved so that he could see what the Captain was doing.  He would not allow this to go beyond the prescribed routine, even if it cost him dearly.  Daniel did not take the time to examine this intention -- he merely knew that it was so.   
  
The Captain must have seen something of his thoughts in Daniel's face, because he smoothed the leer from his lips and sought to don a professional air.  He reached up and grasped the end of the plug protruding from his slave's ass and pulled it out quickly.  Daniel's fingers tightened on his slave's shoulder as he heard a gasp, swiftly bitten off.  That evidence of self-control earned a caress and another murmur of approbation.   
  
Raising two fingers toward his slave's ass, the Captain caught Daniel's hard look, and folded one in with the others.  He slid the finger inside and pulled it out, evidence of Daniel's recent possession slick on his skin. His slave shuddered and hissed, but was otherwise still and silent. Daniel's caress traveled down his arm and leg and back up again.  He was pleased that his slave had learned so quickly.  He had certainly made a good choice.   
  
Wiping his finger on his uniform, the Captain placed the tip of the plug against the twitching asshole and shoved it in, hard.  His slave yelped and spoke an unintelligible phrase in a tone that implied a curse.  Daniel's fingers tightened once, and then released.   
  
"That's all right, then, sir."  The Captain handed him the papers and nodded, his eyes lingering on Daniel's slave for a moment longer than absolutely correct, but Daniel was not going to make a fuss.  He just wanted to get out of the city, back to the open spaces where a man could travel for a day without seeing another human and spot his enemies from afar.  He folded the papers and slid them into his pocket, then turned to his slave.   
  
He was still leaning over Salimeh's neck, his scarlet face buried in her mane, his red ass raised off the saddle.   
  
Daniel touched the side of his face gently, speaking to him as if to a frightened child.   
  
"There, there, it's all over now," he murmured.  "We're all finished here, and we can leave."   
  
Brown eyes peered at him, blinking wetly, and before he realized what he was doing, Daniel leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his hot, damp cheek. His slave pulled back quickly, barking out an exclamation as his ass hit the saddle.  Daniel spent a moment arranging the towel beneath him just so. After all, it would be foolish to hurry now, and then have to stop early because his slave could travel no farther.  He ignored the twitch in his cock as his fingers brushed against the warm flesh, as he positioned the towel around the end of the plug.  When he was finished, he looked up at his slave's furiously blushing face and schooled the smile from his lips.   
  
It was time to be gone. 


	5. Chapter 5

The road out of town was crowded for the first mile or two, then the traffic thinned as they left the cultivated lands and headed into the scrub.   
  
Once they were relatively alone on the road, Daniel drew Salimeh alongside him and handed his slave a chunk of the bread he had purchased earlier.  His slave bit off a large piece and chewed, his eyes half-closed in enjoyment.   
  
"Bread," Daniel said, speaking slowly and clearly, holding his own piece up.   
  
"Bread," his slave repeated dutifully, his mouth full.   
  
When they finished the bread, Daniel peeled an orange and handed him the segments.  "Orange," he said, and his slave nodded and repeated the name. His slave tasted the first segment tentatively, looking up at him with startled eyes.  Daniel smiled and began to eat the segments of his own orange, the sweetly tart juice counteracting the dryness of the bread.  It did not take long before both oranges were gone, and Daniel permitted himself the childish pleasure of licking the sticky juice off his fingers. After glancing at him, his slave followed suit.   
  
The sight of that pink tongue sliding along those long fingers, the fingers disappearing inside that warm mouth was almost too much for Daniel.  He tore his eyes away and unhooked his watersack from the saddle, dribbling water over his fingers to clean them before squirting a mouthful between his lips. He handed the sack to his slave, who also cleaned his fingers, then tried to imitate Daniel by aiming the opening toward his mouth and squeezing the skin.   
  
Daniel laughed as his slave spluttered and wiped his face, glaring.  It was not as easy as it looked, and he had practiced for several days when he was a boy to achieve just the right air of casual elegance.  He showed his slave how to hold the sack up and pour the water into his mouth -- just as effective, but not nearly as showy.  When he was finished, his slave handed the watersack back to him, bowing his head slightly and saying something softly.  It had the air of a 'thank you.'   
  
Deciding that they might as well continue the language lesson, Daniel placed his hand on his chest.   
  
"Daniel el-Rydal," he said.  "But you will call me 'Master.'"  He repeated "Master" twice, then his slave said it.  His accent was appalling, but it was understandable, and that was all that Daniel cared about.   
  
"What shall I call you?" he asked, eyeing his slave thoughtfully. "Shal'oub?  Fayd?  Omar?  Habib?"  None of the names seemed to fit the man before him.   
  
His slave frowned a little, then raised his bound hands to his chest and said "Casey Makall."   
  
"Casey Makall?"  Daniel chuckled at the absurd-sounding name.  It would never   do.  He shook his head.  "No, that is not a name for a slave... Kaseem, perhaps?"   
  
His slave barked out a word and shook his head.  "Casey," he said flatly.   
  
"Kaseem."  Daniel's eyes narrowed.   
  
"Casey."   
  
Without warning, Daniel reached out and smacked his slave's ass.  The hurt and shock on his face almost made Daniel regret his action.  Muttering something that Daniel could not hear, his slave twisted on the saddle, pulling on his bonds and rattling his chains, as if reminding himself of his situation.   
  
Daniel decided to drop the matter for the moment.  He needed to relieve himself and stretch, and if he didn't want his slave to be unable to move tomorrow, he should get him off Salimeh and have him walk around for a while.   
  
Directing Zeina toward a small box canyon nearby, they left the road.  He ignored his slave's quiet words -- they sounded like a question.  If he thought he was going to be punished further for his stubbornness, so much the better.  There were certain things that a slave-owner could not tolerate--   
  
"Master?"  The voice was so soft, so frightened, that he turned and bestowed a reassuring smile on his slave before he even realized what he was doing. Apprehensive brown eyes flickered over his face, and his slave said a few more words, his voice quavering once.   
  
Daniel gestured toward his groin.  "I must urinate," he said, but his slave's face suddenly drained of all color and he bit his lip, shaking his head rapidly.   
  
A string of harsh, whispered syllables poured from the bloodless lips, the voice breaking with suppressed sobs as he pleaded unintelligibly.  Daniel stared at him, taken aback by his response, until it suddenly dawned on Daniel what his gesture could have meant.   
  
"No, no!" he said, "you misunderstand me."  He thought for a moment, trying to decide how to explain such a personal process, but another look at his slave's frightened and miserable face made him opt for the direct approach. He grabbed the watersack, held it beside his hip and squirted out a short stream onto the ground.  He pointed to himself again, and to the ground, nodding.  "I'm not going to take you again," he said.  "At least, not yet," he amended, and added "I simply have to pee."   
  
His slave's cocked his head to one side and his face cleared a little. "Pee?" he said, hopefully.  Daniel realized he must have heard that word when he was captured or being transported to the market.   
  
He nodded again.  "Yes, pee."   
  
Relief flooded his slave's face and he pointed to himself.  "Pee."   
  
"Yes, of course."  Daniel didn't think he would have to do much, because surely he had drunk precious little water over the past several days, but his slave would be permitted to pee if he needed to.   
  
Zeina and Salimeh picked their way over the rough ground, finally reaching a small spring near the end of the canyon.  The tough, scrub grass was a little greener beside the small trickle that appeared, miraculously, amongst the stones.  Daniel dismounted and lay Zeina's reins over a rock.  She would not move until he returned.  Then he dipped two fingers in the pool, shaking them onto the grass, murmuring a prayer.  He would do his business first, then unchain his slave.  One could never be too careful with a new purchase, his father had taught him.   
  
He moved away from the spring, unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock.  It was half-hard from the sight of his slave's tight ass, and the thought of what he would do tomorrow, when they reached home. It took him a few moments of concentration before he could relax enough to release his urine in a strong stream.  He shook off his cock in a business-like manner and tucked it back in his trousers, refastening them.  Rinsing his hands in the warm water of the spring, he then walked over to unchain his slave.   
  
It would be an awkward business to get him off Salimeh with his hands still bound, but Daniel was a cautious man.  He unchained his feet from the stirrups, and then unhooked his collar chain from the saddle, allowing it to dangle for the moment.  When his slave held up his bound hands, Daniel shook his head.   
  
His slave was weaker and stiffer than he had expected.  The hardest part was having him swing his far leg over the saddle; if he leaned forward, he mashed his soft cock painfully into the hard leather, and if he leaned back, the plug was shoved deep inside.  His bottom lip was swollen and bleeding from being bitten by the time Daniel managed to half-drag, half-lift him off the saddle, and when his feet hit the ground, he whimpered and his knees buckled.  Daniel's strong grasp saved him from sprawling on the rocks, his bound hands clutched at Daniel's robes for support.  They teetered together for a moment, until his slave managed to lock his knees and stand, swaying.   
  
"Pee," he said, his voice growing desperate.  Daniel pointed toward the place he had used, and his slave took a wobbly step, stumbling over a rock as his sandal caught.  With an impatient sigh, Daniel took his arm and helped him over to the spot.  His slave glanced up at him, his eyes pleading, but Daniel ignored the hint.  He held onto his slave's arm and said, "pee," the order plain.   
  
Scarlet suffused the pale face and he frowned, but he did not argue as he pushed aside the longer front of his tunic and awkwardly clasped his cock with his bound hands.  It was more than a trickle, but the color was dark, the odor strong, and Daniel made a mental note to have him drink considerably more water over the next several days to stave off bladder infections.   
  
He led his slave over to the spring, where his slave knelt and plunged both hands into the water, cupping them as much as his bonds would permit and raising them above his head.  He spoke quickly, in a sing-song voice, and Daniel suspected it was a prayer.  Then his slave allowed most of the water to trickle back into the spring and dashed the rest onto the dry earth.  He rose with a grimace.   
  
"We will walk for a bit," said Daniel, taking his arm again.  He could have led him about on the end of the chain attached to his collar, but it would be silly to chance his slave falling on the stones, as weak as he was.   
  
They paced slowly up and down the center of the canyon, where there was a relatively flat area.  Twice his slave bent over suddenly, clutching his stomach and crying out briefly.  Then he would straighten slowly, his face sweaty.  It worried Daniel enough that the third time it happened, he insisted on returning to the spring.  He helped his slave down onto one hip, propped on an elbow, and then gently palpated his stomach.  A gasp and a sudden stream of urgent words were coupled with a frantic scrabbling as his slave pulled his knees under him and then moved into a squat.   
  
Hands pulled at his robe as the urgent pleas grew, his slave's face turning red as he grunted, trying to expel the plug.  It was against the rules, but Daniel didn't care.  He grasped the plug and tugged it out quickly.  Grunts turned into thin wails as he shivered.  Daniel's mark of possession trickled out, pooling on the grass.  Air passed, then a short gush of watery mucous, stained with blood.  Daniel held on as his slave moaned and cried, the cramps making him sweat.  Three more gushes of fluid poured from him, and then he calmed, his cries of pain trailing off into weak moans.  Daniel dragged him over to a clean place on the grass and lay him on his side.  It had been more than two days since he had last eaten, Daniel could tell. His slave drowsed, shivering occasionally, as Daniel decided what to do, and how much he was willing to risk for this new possession.   
  
Tearing off a piece of the cloth beneath Salimeh's saddle-bags, he wet it in the spring and wiped the sweat from his slave's face and arms.  He found the small bag the slave-seller had given him and searched through it, pleased when he found a jar of ointment.  He used the cloth to wipe up the mess on his slave's ass, holding his hip when he tried to turn over and ignoring his startled shout.   
  
"Hold still," he said irritably as his slave continued to wiggle.  "You can't stay like this!"  He continued to move as Daniel cleaned him, jerking his hips and crying out when the cloth passed over his hole.  "Hold *still*!" Daniel yelled, frustrated at his slave's continued struggles.  For pity's sake, he was just trying to help!  Without warning, he pushed his slave's hip down until he was flat on his stomach, screeching and trying to scoot away.  So Daniel sat heavily on his thighs and smacked his ass hard twice.   
  
All movement and sound ceased, save rapid, panicky breaths.  A tiny, muffled voice said "Master?" and Daniel lowered his hand and inhaled deeply, willing himself calm.  "Remember," he told himself, "this is an untrained slave, who is not used to our customs and cannot speak our tongue.  Patience will be rewarded."   
  
"Master?"  The voice sounded, if anything, even more frightened.   
  
"Do not fear," he said, his voice gentle.  "You are torn, and I must put some ointment in you.  But I will not mark you again today."  He saw a brown eye peering over a hunched shoulder, blinking rapidly.  He sighed.  Language lessons were going to commence as soon as possible.  He picked up the jar and uncapped it, showing the contents to his slave.  There was a muffled sob and the eye filled with water.   
  
"No, no," he said.  Then Daniel pointed to his groin and shook his head. "No."  He raised his finger and pretended to scoop some of the ointment from the jar.  "Yes." He nodded, and his slave buried his face in the grass and spoke, pleading.   
  
"I must," he continued, absurdly desperate to make him *understand*.  "You are injured, and this medicine will help--"   
  
"Medicine?"   
  
"Yes, *medicine*."  He did not care to think about why his slave would know that word, and not 'bread' or 'water.'   
  
His slave sighed.  "Medicine," he said firmly, in a tone that granted permission.   
  
His entire body tensed, however, when Daniel placed a hand on his ass, pulling one cheek to the side.  It didn't surprise Daniel, considering how he had been taken earlier, but it disturbed him.  He didn't wish his slave to be frightened, and that thought surprised him.  Still, they had wasted enough time here, and must be on their way.  Surely there was another way for him to--   
  
He moved off his slave's legs and urged him onto his back.  His face was still red and apprehensive, but he returned Daniel's smile tentatively, and that pleased Daniel.  He leaned forward and unfastened the cuffs from each other, freeing his slave's hands.  Then he urged his legs up and apart, showing him how to clasp them behind his knees and pull them higher.  His slave blushed; after all, he was horribly exposed in this position, but at least he could see Daniel's face and would know what was going to happen. Daniel's father was a great believer in the advantages of knowing the worst, and Daniel agreed whole-heartedly with that philosophy.   
  
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.  "I want you to see what I'm doing."   
  
The tunic front was pushed up past his waist, and Daniel could see his soft cock and balls, vulnerable and enticing.  Picking up the jar, Daniel scooped a good amount of ointment on his forefinger, showing it to his slave, then gently circled his slave's red and swollen hole.   
  
"Relax for me, relax your body."   
  
A moan.  He worked slowly, circling patiently until, with a shudder, his slave's body opened to him.  He slid his finger inside, gently massaging the muscle, his mouth suddenly dry, his chest heaving painfully.  Another moan, and he watched, mesmerized, as his slave's cock twitched and began to fill.   
  
He continued his slow thrusting, crooking and twisting his finger to spread the ointment evenly.  His slave shuddered and groaned, his growing cock dragging across his heaving belly, leaving a moist trail on the pale skin. Intrigued, Daniel repeated the crook and twist and suddenly his slave arched his back and cried out, his cock bobbing heavily.   
  
"Master!"   
  
The word sent a bolt straight to Daniel's cock and he rubbed it hard through his trousers, hissing with pleasure.  Leaning forward, he ran another finger slowly down his slave's hard shaft, cupping and then gently pulling on his balls.  He glanced up to his slave's face and inhaled sharply.  His brown eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth open, lips red and wet, and as Daniel watched, he threw back his head and wriggled his hips, his chest heaving.   
  
Daniel grasped the hard cock before him and pumped it slowly, licking his own lips as his slave moaned and pulled his legs farther apart.  His finger was squeezed tightly and he began to move it in small circles, loosening the muscle.  A frantic groan, a whimper, and he sped up his hand, pumping strongly.   
  
"Master..." An agonized whisper, a plea.   
  
"Come for me," Daniel said roughly, his hand tightening, his finger plunging deeper.  "Come for me now, Casey!"   
  
With a shout that echoed in the narrow canyon, Casey orgasmed, his come fountaining over his stomach and chest, dripping over Daniel's hand.  Daniel slowed his pumping, regretfully releasing Casey's softening cock.  He lifted his sticky hand to his mouth, hesitated, then swiftly wiped it on the grass. He slid his finger out of Casey's still-spasming ass and turned away to wash his hands in the spring.  When he turned back, he swallowed hard at the sight -- his slave... no, *Casey*, sprawled bonelessly on the grass, his legs spread wide, cock limp, his chest and belly heaving and splattered with come, his hole open and glistening.   
  
"Master?"  The thick satisfaction in that voice heated his groin.  Daniel looked at his face and was rewarded with a shy smile.  A short phrase, softly spoken, sounded familiar.  Daniel suspected he was saying thank you.   
  
He nodded brusquely and stooped to pick up the jar and stow it in the bag. He retrieved the plug and washed it off as Casey scrambled to his feet, his face wary, his hands behind him, covering his ass.   
  
"Master?"  He sounded nervous.   
  
Daniel did not answer.  He dried off the plug and stared at it for a minute, watching Casey's jerky movements out of the corner of his eye.  He already knew what he was going to do. He *had* to regain the control that was so rapidly slipping from his fingers. 


	6. Chapter 6

Daniel held up the plug in one hand and pointed to the ground in front of him with the other.   
  
"Come here."  The order was plain.   
  
Casey flinched, his eyes roaming the canyon, but Daniel knew there was no way for him to escape.  Even if he ran, he would be caught in a few steps. Daniel had chosen the spot carefully.   
  
Taking a shaky breath, he raised his chin and moved to the spot indicated, his eyes never leaving Daniel's face.   
  
"Plug," said Daniel, repeating the word.  He looked at Casey expectantly.   
  
Swallowing hard, Casey whispered "plug."   
  
"Good."  Daniel nodded, and stowed the plug in the small bag.  The look of relief that crossed Casey's face was almost comic, but Daniel didn't feel like laughing.  "You must learn a few more words before we leave here."   
  
"Kneel."  He placed both hands on Casey's shoulders and pressed down. Stumbling a little, Casey knelt before him.  "Kneel."   
  
Casey's eyes were wide as he looked up.  "Kneel," he repeated.   
  
"Yes.  Now, stand."  Daniel gestured, and Casey stood, nodding.   
  
"Stand."  There was a spark of excitement in his eyes that Daniel had not seen before.  He gestured toward Zeina and Salimeh and raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Horses," Daniel said.  "Zeina," he pointed, "and Salimeh."  Casey repeated his words, a small smile spreading over his face.  Within a few minutes, he had learned the words for saddle, bridle, bit, reins, ears, eyes, mouth, neck, legs, tail, ground, rock, spring, grass, sky, and sun.   
  
He turned solemn as he lifted the chain hanging from his collar and looked at Daniel inquiringly.   
  
"Chain."   
  
He nodded, softly repeating it.  Then he pointed to the leather that encircled his neck, wrists, and ankles.   
  
"Bindings."   
  
Another nod, and he mouthed the word, but did not speak it aloud.  He paused, his eyes lowered thoughtfully, one hand creeping around to cover one asscheek.  Daniel looked at him closely, and he suspected where the questions would lead next.  It was not a topic he wished to explore at the moment, so he clapped his hands sharply once.  Casey jumped, startled, and looked ready to flee.   
  
"Come," said Daniel, moving to stand beside Salimeh.  "It is time for us to leave."  Casey reluctantly walked over to him, and mounted Salimeh stiffly. Now that he didn't have the plug inside him, Daniel could see that his seat was quite good -- he had been trained well.  Casey winced as he settled on his ass, so Daniel grabbed the towel and had him stand in the stirrups as he spread it over the saddle, then arranged it beneath him as he sat.  A murmur greeted his action, and Daniel was rewarded with a smile and gracious nod. He wondered, not for the first time, who Casey had been before he was captured, but quickly shook off the thought.  Casey was his slave now, and that was an end to any speculation.   
  
Setting his jaw, Daniel grabbed the chain still attached to the stirrup and fastened it to his slave's ankle.  He circled Salimeh and did the same for the other binding, resolutely ignoring the soft questions.  He did not look up when he grabbed the clenched fists and bound them together, or when he attached the collar chain to the saddle.  He simply fastened them in place and turned quickly, mounting Zeina in one smooth movement and then urging her back down the canyon toward the road, Salimeh following.   
  
They rode in silence along the deserted road until the sun settled low in the west, their attenuated shadows crawling across the dusty ground beside them.  Daniel was pleased that they did not meet any guards or soldiers along the way.  Although he could legally argue that his slave's injury and need for medication excused the lack of the mark, it was not unheard of for an unmarked slave and his master to be harassed and even imprisoned for a few days.  Daniel preferred to avoid any such difficulties.   
  
Dusk was deepening as Daniel spotted the small inn where they would spend the night.  It was a simple place, offering only a warm meal and a clean pallet on which to sleep, but the couple who ran the inn were honest and quietly friendly.   
  
Riding into the courtyard, Daniel glanced back.  Casey sat slumped on the saddle, his shoulders bowed, his eyes dull and half-closed.  A stableboy ran out to greet them, only sparing Casey a glance before catching Zeina's bridle and welcoming Daniel.  Sliding off Zeina, Daniel quickly unfastened Casey's chains and helped him to the ground.  He could feel the shivers wracking Casey's lean body, and he half-dragged, half-carried him into the inn.   
  
Mustafa met them at the door, his normally placid face creased in surprise as they stumbled in.   
  
"I need help, Mustafa."  Daniel tried to keep the panic from his voice.  "He is ill..."   
  
"Roya!" Mustafa called, and in a moment his wife bustled in, her smile disappearing as she rushed forward.   
  
"Ah, the poor thing!" she said, pulling off her shawl and wrapping it around Casey's shoulders.  "Husband, help them!  This way, sir," and she led them through the warm and cheerful main room, flinging open the door to a small room at the back of the inn.  Mustafa and Daniel practically carried Casey inside and lowered him gently onto a thick straw pallet covered with clean blankets.   
  
Roya appeared with a lamp, which she set on a shelf and then knelt beside   
Casey.  She lay her hand on his face, tsking softly, and pulled a blanket over his shivering body.   
  
"He has a fever," she said, rising slowly.  "It's not bad," she added as Daniel turned to her, fear gripping his gut, "but he must rest."  She looked Casey over, frowning.  "And eat."   
  
"He had a little bread earlier, but it passed right through him." Daniel felt like he was apologizing for something that was not his fault.   
  
"And before that?"   
  
"I don't know."  He shrugged. "I just purchased him today."   
  
Roya gazed at him steadily for a moment, then nodded once.  "Well, he'll need broth tonight, and may be able to eat some bread tomorrow.  I will see to it."  With that, she was gone.   
  
Daniel looked blankly at Mustafa.   
  
"Did the stableboy meet you?" Mustafa asked.  Daniel nodded, feeling stupid. "If you like, I will have him bring your belongings here, so that you may stay with your slave."   
  
Daniel nodded again, and squatted on the floor beside the pallet.  Casey's eyes were closed and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.  He looked impossibly young and vulnerable.  Daniel watched his hand raise and then stroke Casey's warm forehead.   
  
Brown eyes fluttered open.   
  
"Master?"   
  
"Hush," he whispered, his hand still stroking.  "You are ill.  You need rest."   
  
A tiny smile touched the corners of Casey's mouth and he turned a little, pressing warmly into his hand.  Daniel blinked hard and stared at the lamp. If his eyes were going to water, he would give them a reason. 


	7. Chapter 7

There was a knock on the door.   
  
"Enter," Daniel called, and the stableboy brought in the saddlebags.   
  
"I have unsaddled the horses and given them water and feed, sir," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the ground.  "Would you like me to do anything else?"   
  
"No."  Daniel glanced at Casey, still and pale on the pallet, and shook his head.  "I will check on the horses later."  He dismissed the boy with a nod.   
  
Daniel looked blankly at the saddlebags propped on the floor beside the other pallet and remained where he was, his hand still stroking Casey's warm forehead.   
  
Another knock, and Roya bustled in, leading Mustafa who was carrying a laden tray.  Roya's bright eyes flickered from Daniel to Casey, and lingered for a moment on Daniel's hand.   
  
"I've brought your dinner, sir, as well as some broth for your slave.  Mustafa!"  He placed the tray on a low table below the small window and she picked up the broth and moved over to Casey.  "I will feed him, sir, while you eat."   
  
"No."  The word was out of his mouth before he realized what he was going to say.   
  
"Pardon, sir?"   
  
Daniel opened his mouth again, then hesitated.  "Yes," he finally said, giving Casey's forehead a final stroke and rising.  "I am famished."   
  
Roya sat in his place and began to slowly feed Casey the broth.  Daniel watched him take three spoonfuls before turning away.   
  
He pulled up the stool and dug into the fragrant bowl of stew.  It was very good.  Mustafa poured him a cup of thin, slightly sour wine, and he ate and drank quickly, his eyes constantly straying to the pallet across the room.  When he was finished, he rose and stood behind Roya.  The bowl was almost empty, and Daniel nodded approvingly as Casey opened his mouth and accepted another spoonful.   
  
"Sir," Roya's voice was cautious.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"There is blood seeping from beneath his bindings..."  She pointed to a smear of red on Casey's wrist.   
  
Daniel muttered a curse as he knelt beside her and snatched up Casey's arm, peering at it closely.  There *was* blood, and it was fresh.  Casey blinked at him, silent and watchful.  With another curse, Daniel unfastened the bindings, pulling them off carefully as Casey winced.  The skin beneath was raw and puffy, blood oozing from a deep rope burn.   
  
"They must be treated," he said harshly, angry at the slave-seller and just as angry with himself.  He gently unfastened the collar, biting back yet another curse at the sight of the purple marks encircling Casey's neck.  His ankles were in worse shape, scabs and skin pulling away with the bindings.   
  
"I have some very good salve," said Roya, closely examining the worst ankle.  "Very soothing and efficacious.  I will find some clean cloth to use as bandages, and he will heal quickly."  She disappeared briefly, returning with a small pot and a bundle of rags.   
  
Casey looked at Daniel as Roya opened the pot.  "Medicine?"   
  
Daniel nodded.  "Medicine."  He put his hand on Casey's shoulder, massaging it gently as Roya spread the salve over Casey's ankles and muttered prayers for healing before binding them with the rags.  His wrists were next, then the deep marks around his neck.  When Roya was finished, Casey softly touched her hand with his fingertips and murmured a few words.  She looked at him, startled.  
  
"I must check the horses," Daniel said quietly, catching Casey's eye.   
  
"Zeina?  Salimeh?"  Casey struggled a little with the unfamiliar names.   
  
"Yes.  I will return soon."   
  
"I'll stay with him until you return, sir."  Roya took Casey's hand in both of hers and turned it palm up.  "I will pray for his speedy recovery."   
  
"Thank you."  It was obvious that Roya followed the old religion, and even though he did not believe in her Goddess, prayers would always be welcome.  Daniel could feel Casey's eyes on him as he left.   
  
It did not take long to see that the horses had been treated properly and were dozing quietly in their stalls.  Daniel stroked Zeina absently and noticed three other horses stabled there. They were obviously not the only visitors tonight. But as long as they were not disturbed, he didn't care if there was an army of guests staying.   
  
He returned to their room through the back, avoiding the main room where he could hear the murmur of voices and an occasional laugh.  Mustafa and the tray were gone, and Roya still knelt beside Casey's pallet, the soothing murmur of her prayers a comfort.   
  
"The broth should sit quietly in him, sir," she said, frowning slightly as Casey shifted and murmured, already fast asleep, "but I will be near if you need me.  I'll have Sharif sleep outside your door tonight, and if you call out, he will find me."   
  
"Thank you, Roya.  Your kindness will bring you great blessings."   
  
"It is as the Goddess wills, sir.  We can but do our best."  She curtseyed and left.   
  
Despite the relatively early hour, Daniel was exhausted and certainly not in the mood to leave Casey and pass the hours with strangers' small talk in the main room.  He squatted down and watched Casey for a few minutes.  The hand Roya had been holding lay on top of the blanket, curled slightly, relaxed in sleep.  Daniel picked it up and stroked the soft palm.  It was a strong hand, but there were no hard calluses, save one on the side of his middle finger.  Not the hand of a soldier or laborer.   
  
Daniel stifled a jaw-cracking yawn.  He had to get some rest, so he laid Casey's hand back on the pallet and pulled the blanket over it, giving it a little pat.  Then he stumbled over to his own pallet and stretched out, fully-clothed, and was asleep as his head hit the mattress.   
  
He dreamed that storms were buffeting the inn, the winds howling and wailing through the windows and doorways.  He turned and stirred, and realized that the wailing was coming from across the room.  Feeling dopey and half-drugged, Daniel rolled from his bed and stumbled to Casey's pallet, belatedly realizing that he had not doused the lamp and grateful for its light.   
  
Casey was panting and whimpering, his voice rising into a thin wail as he tossed on the bed, clutching his stomach.  Daniel stared at him stupidly for a moment, then snapped awake as he realized what was happening.  He ran to the corner and grabbed the chamber pot - he did not think there was time to get Casey outside to the privy.   
  
Kneeling, he pulled Casey into his arms and helped him squat over the pot.  He murmured soothingly as Casey shivered and moaned, tightening his grip as spasms and cramps led to the release of air and then liquid.   
  
When Casey sighed in relief Daniel helped him back on the pallet, then poked his head out into the corridor to call Sharif.  Roya was standing there, already dressed and waiting, carrying several articles.  Daniel did not ask her how she knew she was needed, he simply opened the door and ushered her inside.   
  
"What should I do?"   
  
She set down the things she had brought, glanced at the contents of the pot, then had Sharif take it away to empty and clean it.   
  
"He must be cleaned, first."  She wet a cloth and knelt beside Casey, touching his shoulder.  He looked at her, face slack with exhaustion, and she showed him the cloth.  He nodded and blushed, rolling onto his stomach.   
  
Roya wiped his ass, clucking softly as she examined his red and swollen hole.  Casey hissed as she touched it gently, but remained still.   
  
"His gut is irritated from lack of food," she said, turning to Daniel.  "I suspected as much, and have prepared a soothing herbal wash for it, and have a better ointment than the one the slave-seller gave you."  She indicated a filled watersack.  "Place the cleansing nozzle on the end and have him take it all and hold it for a count of five hundred.  When he has emptied himself, use this ointment inside and out, and spread it up as far as you can reach.  Do you understand?"   
  
Daniel blinked and nodded.   
  
"Good," she said, and opened the door, collecting the chamber pot and a bucket that were standing there.  "Have him use the bucket.  The privies are too far, and the pot is not large enough.  Here are some cloths for you to use, as well."  She paused, shooting him a hard look.  "Can you do that?"   
  
"Yes, of course."  Daniel went to retrieve the bag from the slave-seller.  "Thank you."   
  
"Do what I tell you and he will be much better tomorrow.  Good night."   
  
"Good night," Daniel said to the closed door.  In the bag he found a long cleansing nozzle, normally reserved for preparing a slave for the binding ritual.  He picked up the watersack.  It felt warm to his touch.  He attached the nozzle to the opening and knelt beside the bed.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
A red face turned from the pallet and looked at him miserably.  Daniel took a deep breath.  This was not going to be easy.   
  
"Casey, you need medicine inside."  Daniel pointed to Casey's belly.  "I need to get the medicine there."  Casey looked at the nozzle and watersack and shook his head.   
  
"Yes, you must."  Daniel pointed to the watersack.  "Medicine.  To help you."   
  
Frowning, Casey stared at him for a minute, then buried his face in the mattress and nodded.   
  
"Good."  Daniel moved down his body, when Casey suddenly shifted and sat up, wincing as his ass hit the pallet.  He held out his hands for the watersack and opened his mouth with an air of resignation.   
  
Daniel stared at him.  "No."   
  
"No?"  Casey looked at him, confused.  "Medicine?"   
  
"Casey," Daniel said, suddenly deeply embarrassed.  Perhaps if he called Roya, she could-   
  
No.  Casey was his responsibility.   
  
Daniel pointed to the nozzle.  "This," he said slowly, "must go into you there," and he pointed to Casey's ass.   
  
Casey looked shocked.   
  
"No."  He shook his head emphatically.   
  
"Yes.  Medicine."   
  
"No."  Casey bit his lip.  The plea in his voice was apparent.   
  
"Yes," Daniel said firmly.  "Medicine.  You want to be able to eat, don't you?"   
  
"No, Master..."  Casey closed his eyes.   
  
"Casey," Daniel cupped his chin and his brown eyes flew open.  "Medicine," he said, nodding.  "Now please, turn over and let's get this over with."   
  
Lips compressed tightly, Casey slowly lowered himself back onto his elbows, then lay back and pulled up his knees, catching them with his hands and opening them wide.   
  
Daniel shook his head.  "I'm sorry, but you have to be on your belly."  He made a circular motion with his finger.  Casey's face crumpled.   
  
"No," he whispered.   
  
"Yes, you must."  Daniel watched, hating himself and what he had to do, as Casey lowered his legs and rolled over, spreading his legs and burying his head in his arms.  He clasped Casey's hip and urged it up until Casey was on his knees, ass in the air.  His shoulders shook as Daniel scooped a little salve on his finger and pushed it into Casey's hole.   
  
"I'm putting the nozzle in, now," he said, resting one hand on Casey's ass in warning.   
  
Casey gasped and a shudder ran through his body as the nozzle slid inside.   
  
"Here's the medicine."  Daniel released the neck of the watersack and Casey cried out as the water and herbs flowed inside him.  Gradually his cries quieted and he moaned softly, panting as the sack emptied.  Daniel squeezed the sack as it grew limp, causing Casey to shiver as the nozzle shifted.  Finally, it was empty.   
  
"Casey, you must hold the medicine inside as I count," he said, pressing a finger on either side of the nozzle and pulling it out slowly.  As soon as it was completely out, he dropped the sack and pressed hard against Casey's hole.   
  
"One.  Two.  Three. Four..."  He counted softly, as Casey shifted his hips and called out questioningly.   
  
"Fifteen.  Sixteen.  Seventeen."  Casey was wiggling his hips now, and Daniel squeezed his cheeks together with his other hand.   
  
By the time he had reached thirty, Casey was up on his hands and knees, arching his back and groaning.  Daniel was having a hard time keeping hold of him and his patience was fading.   
  
"Casey!  Stop moving!"  He tightened his grip, but Casey fought harder.  Pressing his fingers more firmly against his ass, Daniel smacked his cheeks hard.  Casey immediately stilled, his panting breaths loud in the suddenly quiet room.   
  
"Good..."  Daniel took a deep breath and received an inspiration.  "Count with me, Casey.  One.  Two.  Three..."  It did not take long before Casey caught the pattern and began to mutter the numbers along with Daniel, waiting for him to name the decade, then chiming in with the units.  He groaned when they reached one hundred and Daniel continued.  His body was covered with a light sheen of sweat when they reached two hundred, and he dropped to his elbows as Daniel said "three hundred."   
  
His ass was quivering and his skin was flushed and sticky when Daniel moved on to four hundred, and he rasped out a question.   
  
"Soon, soon," Daniel said, stroking the damp flesh of his ass and thighs.  At four hundred fifty Daniel stopped, reasoning that he had at least reached fifty during the first count.  He helped a shivering Casey over to the bucket, and supported him as he let the water pour out.   
  
When Casey was finished, he half-carried him back to the pallet, then took the bucket to the door and directed a groggy Sharif to empty it outside.  Daniel dampened a cloth and wiped Casey's face and arms, then tugged off his crumpled tunic and sponged down his chest, back and legs.  He resolutely ignored the fact that Casey's cock was furiously red and erect, swaying heavily as he breathed.   
  
Casey lay on his back, half-asleep, and Daniel hated to disturb him, but he had to finish Roya's instructions.   
  
"Casey?"  He shook his shoulder gently.  "Casey, there's just one more thing..."  When Casey opened his eyes and stared blearily at Daniel, he held up the jar of salve.  "Medicine."   
  
Casey groaned, but obediently raised his legs and spread them wide, holding them tightly behind his knees as Daniel had shown him.   
  
Daniel's cock throbbed at the sight of Casey's red, twitching hole.  He rubbed himself through his trousers surreptitiously, cursing his own exhaustion and Casey's illness.  He had to wait until the binding ritual before spilling his seed again, but it was tempting to ignore custom, to break the rules and simply bring himself to climax here.   
  
No.   
  
Scooping up some salve, his finger circled Casey's hole until Casey moaned and relaxed and he could slide right in.  Roya had told him to put it in deeply and evenly, so he twisted his finger, spreading it over the fluttering muscles, before withdrawing and scooping up more.  This time he pushed his finger in almost to the top knuckle and Casey bit back a yell, his cock jumping.  The crown of his cock was red, suffused with blood, and drooling, moisture leaking down the sides.   
  
Succumbing to a sudden impulse, Daniel leaned forward and licked it.   
  
Casey howled and bucked, driving Daniel's finger deeper.   
  
"Quiet!" Daniel spoke sharply.  Casey's eyes flew open as Daniel pressed a finger to his lips.  "Hush."   
  
Nodding, Casey covered his mouth with his hand.  Daniel withdrew his finger and Casey moaned, the sound muffled by his hand.  This time Daniel coated two fingers with salve and pushed them inside, twisting and working them deep in Casey's ass.  He leaned forward again and slid his lips over the top of Casey's cock, dragging his tongue over the swollen crown. The taste was bitter, slightly salty, strangely compelling.  Casey's muffled cries encouraged him to wrap his other hand around the shaft and pump it hard.   
  
His slick fingers plunged into Casey, sliding over the tender skin, making Casey writhe.  While his tongue worked busily on the crown, he kept up his merciless pumping of Casey's shaft, glorying in the fact that his hands and mouth had created the bucking, moaning man beneath him.  He felt like a god.   
  
After one particularly deep thrust and brutal twist of Daniel's fingers, Casey grunted urgently and tried to push his head away.  Daniel did not move, he just held on to Casey's cock more firmly, and waited for the inevitable.  It did not take long.   
  
When Casey threw back his head and let out a muffled roar, cock pumping, Daniel felt the hot come fill his mouth.  He swallowed a little, allowing the rest to fall back onto Casey's cock and his hand.  Then he sat up and pulled his hand from Casey's spasming ass, surveying his handiwork.   
  
If anything, Casey looked even more desirable than the first time.  His eyes shone, and the sweetest, most gentle smile touched his lips.  The hair on his chest was damp and matted, plastered to his flat, panting belly.  His cock lay, half-hard, against one thigh, the balls turning slowly in their sacks.  His ass...  Daniel had to look away, because Casey's asshole glistened and pulsed, presenting a seductive invitation for Daniel to fill it with his hard cock.   
  
Succumbing to temptation again, Daniel leaned forward and kissed Casey's open mouth, pressing their lips together hard before tearing himself away.  Casey looked at him, eyes wide and jaw slack with surprise.   
  
"Master?"  He sounded incredulous, and when he touched his fingers to his lips and frowned, Daniel scrambled to his feet, his face hot.   
  
"Well, that should hold you for tonight," he said roughly, and he wet a cloth and cleaned his sticky hand, then rinsed his mouth.  Wetting another cloth, he tossed it to Casey, who was staring at him, bewildered.  "Clean yourself up."   
  
Then he turned and fell into his bed, facing the wall.   
  
"Master?"   
  
He ignored the inquiry, pretending to be asleep.  He did not think that Casey was fooled, but for whatever reason, he did not call Daniel again. 


	8. Chapter 8

A muffled cry and rustling woke Daniel, and he rolled over stiffly, wiping the sleep from his eyes.   
  
"Good morning, sir," Roya greeted him.  She was kneeling beside Casey's pallet, re-wrapping one of his wrists.   
  
"Morning," Daniel croaked and groaned as he sat up.   
  
"Pardon my presumption, sir," she continued, "but I wanted to apply more salve and fresh bandages before I began my chores."   
  
Daniel grunted and rose, stumbling across the room to the washbasin.  He ducked his face and hands in the cold water and dried them quickly.  He glanced over at Roya, still busy with Casey's bandages.   
  
"Can he eat now?"   
  
She looked at him solemnly, her eyes suddenly wary.  "No.  He should have another treatment and some herbal infusions, and rest for today.  Perhaps by this evening he'll be able to take some bread..."   
  
"I wanted to leave this morning, so that we would be home by nightfall."   
  
"Yes, sir."  Her mouth tightened and she stared fixedly at Casey's ankle as she applied more salve.   
  
"He could rest after the journey."  Daniel frowned at his slave.   
  
"Possibly, sir."   
  
"Possibly?  What do you mean by that?"   
  
"He might not survive the journey."   
  
"Why wouldn't he?"  Daniel looked at Roya indignantly.  "It's only twelve hours or so."   
  
She sat back on her heels and faced Daniel squarely.  "He can barely drink, he cannot keep food inside, and he is as weak as a kitten.  You can chain him to the horse, but there is no guarantee that he will live to reach your destination."   
  
Daniel stared at her, stunned.  His eyes flickered to where Casey lay, unmoving, as Roya got to her feet.   
  
"Shall I tell Sharif to prepare your horses for the journey, sir?"   
  
Closing his mouth with a snap, Daniel shook his head.  "No, we will rest here today."   
  
"Very good, sir."  Roya gathered up the salve and extra bandages.  "I will bring your breakfast and what you will need for the next treatment." She disappeared out the door.   
  
Daniel looked around the suddenly stifling room and strode to the door.  He would check on the horses while he waited for breakfast.   
  
He returned when he saw Mustafa cross the courtyard carrying a tray.  Roya was standing over Casey, who sat, propped against the wall, cradling a steaming cup in his hands.   
  
Daniel did not say anything as he crossed to the table and sat.  The taste of the hot, bitter coffee helped him shake the last of the sleep from his brain, and he dipped a hunk of bread into a mixture of yoghurt and honey and bit off a mouthful.   
  
"Sir?"  He looked up.  Roya pointed to the corner, where there was a familiar collection of objects.  "I have placed everything there.  When you are finished, he should sleep again."   
  
Daniel turned back to his coffee and nodded.  "Thank you, Roya."   
  
He could see her hesitate out of the corner of his eye, but she turned and left without saying anything further.   
  
He ate slowly, drawing out his breakfast as long as possible.  There was no sense in hurrying, since they were stuck there for the day.  Thanks to his slave.   
  
Finally he finished and looked across the room.  Casey looked exhausted, his face drawn and the thin skin under his eyes was dark.  He was still holding the cup, but his head leaned heavily against the wall and his eyes were closed.   
  
For a second, Daniel hated him.   
  
Then he pressed his lips together and rose.  "Let's get this over with," he said abruptly.   
  
Casey's eyes flew open and he looked steadily at Daniel.  He leaned forward and set the cup on the floor, then slowly pushed the blanket off of his body and kicked it to one side.  Daniel swallowed as his groin and thighs were exposed, as the soft cock he had held in his mouth lay flaccid in curly hair.  Turning abruptly, he picked up the watersack and nozzle, wondering vaguely why his hands were shaking.   
  
He almost dropped them when he faced the pallet.  Casey was on his elbows and knees, ass high, waiting.   
  
Daniel uttered a curse and dropping the watersack and nozzle to the floor.  Casey looked up as he grabbed his robe and dashed out the door.  He found Roya in the kitchen.   
  
"Give him the treatment," he rasped.  "I will pay you extra."   
  
"Sir?" she said as he ducked out through the door.   
  
"I will be back later," he yelled, practically running to the stable.  He saddled Zeina himself and mounted, urging her into a gallop.   
  
"God help me," he thought miserably as they flew along the dusty road, his robe billowing behind him.  "God *must* help me, for I cannot help myself..." 


	9. Chapter 9

Daniel returned when the sun was high.  He fed and watered Zeina, despite Sharif's assurances that it was not necessary, then strode over to the open kitchen door.  The smell of warm, fresh bread was almost overwhelming, and his forgotten stomach rumbled threateningly.   
  
He stood in the doorway for a few moments before his sun-dazzled eyes adjusted to the relative dimness of the fire-lit room.  Low murmurs and a muffled giggle drew his attention to the back.   
  
"Oh, sir!"  Roya approached him, wiping her hands on a cloth tied around her waist.  "Shall I have one of the girls bring your lunch?"   
  
"Yes, thank you."  Daniel glanced down, feeling awkward.  "My slave... How is he?"   
  
"Much better," she said, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.  "He is here."   
  
Daniel stepped inside, his eyes following her gesture toward the bench by the fire.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
He stared.  It *was* Casey, but a Casey he had never seen before: clean and clothed, his hair washed and brushed smooth, gleaming in the firelight.  He was shelling peas into a bowl on his lap, two of the girls Zeina employed as kitchen help fluttering around him.  He spotted Daniel and his eyes widened.  Then he ducked his head and seemed to shrink against the wall.   
  
"I hope you do not mind, sir, but I permitted him to bathe and gave him one of Mustafa's old robes.  His tunic was unwearable, and I took the liberty of burning it."  Roya spoke softly, but the tone of her voice brooked no discussion.   
  
Daniel tore his eyes from Casey and stared at her, bewildered.  "But the soldiers...  He has not been bound...  What if they ask..."   
  
She made a sound that could have been a snort.  "There will be no soldiers on the road, and tomorrow you will travel to your home undisturbed.  Nothing will stop you from committing-"  She stopped abruptly and turned to one of the girls.  "Jaka, take el-Rydal Effendi's lunch through.  Sir," she continued to Daniel, "if you will go to the keeping room, Jaka will bring your lunch to you."   
  
Daniel nodded, his eyes straying to where Casey sat, head lowered, his shaking hands fumbling with the pea pods.  "He is frightened of me," Daniel thought, and the idea pained him.  "Was he able to eat anything, Roya?" he asked abruptly.   
  
"Yes, sir" she said, nodding.  "Broth and a nourishing tea, as well as a little custard.  He should be able to manage bread and perhaps a little yoghurt by this evening."   
  
"Good."   
  
Daniel turned on his heel and left the kitchen.  He sat alone in the keeping room, turning the image of Casey sitting by the fire over and over in his mind until Jaka brought him his lunch.   
  
He ate slowly, hardly tasting the food.  When he was finished, he called for hot water and washed the dust and sweat from his body and hair.  He tried to stretch out for a nap, but sleep would not come, and after an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up and wandered into the courtyard.  Daniel was startled to see two new horses that were stabled next to his, a bay with a blaze nickering in her stall, and a stolid grey.  Despite Roya's assurances that no soldiers would be on the road now, he headed for the kitchen.  He wished to know who the strangers were before he could relax.   
  
Mustafa was sitting by the window, repairing a broken stool.  Daniel leaned against the doorjab, his arms crossed over his chest, ignoring the soft voices from the other end of the room.  He kept his eyes fixed on Mustafa's calloused hands.   
  
"Handsome bay in the stable," he said casually.   
  
Mustafa grunted.  "Handsome enough, but-"  He looked up sharply, as if remembering to whom he was speaking.  "A fine animal," he added.   
  
"Who's the owner?"  Daniel kept his tone light.   
  
"A merchant who passes this way frequently - Ysak el-Yafe.  He is..."  Mustafa's eyes flickered over to where, Daniel presumed, Casey still sat.  "El-Yafe Effendi is a man who keeps very much to himself, and has no love for... many things," he finished enigmatically.   
  
"What my husband is trying to say," said Roya from across the kitchen, "is that you and your slave have nothing to fear from him.  He cares nothing for the King's rules, or the customs of your family.  You might enjoy speaking with him, however.  He has many interesting things to say."   
  
Daniel chuckled without humor.  "Thank you, Mustafa."  He bowed toward the back of the room.  "And you as well, Roya.  I shall do as you suggest."   
  
He found el-Yafe in the keeping room.  He was a Nubian, past his middle-years, but still strong and hearty, and he looked at Daniel with undisguised suspicion.  The young man who had been sitting beside him paused, half-way to his knees, his dark eyes as wary as the older man's, and then dropped to the floor, his head bowed.   
  
"Good day, sir," el-Yafe said.   
  
"Good day."  Daniel's attention turned from the young man to the older one.  "I am Daniel el-Rydal, first-born son of Yakob."  He bowed.  "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."   
  
El-Yafe narrowed his eyes and then suddenly smiled.  "El-Rydal, eh?  My name is Ysak el-Yafe. I am also pleased to make your acquaintance, Daniel, son of Yakob.  I have heard of your father, of course."   
  
Daniel sat, looking pointedly at the young man kneeling at el-Yafe's feet, well-dressed and well-fed, obviously a slave, but one whose master permitted him to sit beside him when no one else was present.  Ysak ignored his obvious interest, and Daniel was even more intrigued.   
  
They spoke of general topics - the state of the roads, the rumors of unrest in the north, the price of a good horse.  El-Yafe was well-informed and spoke knowledgeably about politics, as well as the difficulties faced by business owners, and Daniel found the afternoon passed quickly.   
  
They were in the middle of a discussion about the recent news from the north.  While he was in the city, Daniel had heard that General Bourgoulla's rout of the northern troops was in response to an attack on one lightly-defended border city. El-Yafe turned to his slave and dropped a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"You were speaking with the... with those of your acquaintance at the Palace, Jarem.  What did they have to say?"   
  
The slave frowned a little but spoke up readily.  "They confirmed the rumor, sir.  It seems that the northern troops were being led by one called the Hammer, who is well-known for being quick-tempered and impulsive.  According to... my sources, this Hammer attacked Dar Es Salla during the High Holy days, when the defenses were light, and permitted his troops to ransack the city.  General Bourgoulla was sent to find the Hammer and crush him, which he did."   
  
"Thank you, my boy," said El-Yafe, absently patting his shoulder.  Jarem smiled up at him and pushed heavy black locks from his eyes, his plain face transformed by the expression.   
  
"Did they capture many prisoners during the battle?" Daniel asked el-Yafe.   
  
"I heard that-" Jarem began, but broke off suddenly as el-Yafe's fingers tightened on his shoulder.  His face flushed a painful red.   
  
"Forgive the impertinence of this one," said el-Yafe easily.  "He has been much indulged and forgets himself." Jarem ducked his head, and Daniel could only see his scarlet ears.  "But truth to tell, el-Rydal Effendi, he is bright and I find him invaluable, so I put up with his familiar ways."   
  
Daniel nodded, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation.  "Yes, I understand the impulse."  He stretched out his legs and tried to appear nonchalant.  "I just purchased a slave and am bringing him home for binding.  But he grew ill and I agreed to postpone the rest of the journey until tomorrow, to give him time to recover.  Many would consider that an unnecessary indulgence."   
  
El-Yafe nodded slowly, his black eyes regarding Daniel with an unfathomable expression.  "Your kindness will bring you great blessings, El-Rydal Effendi, of that I am sure."   
  
"It is not simply kindness, El-Yafe Effendi, but sound economic sense. You of all people should understand that."   
  
"Yes, of course.  But the gods look favorably upon those who treat the helpless and infirm with kindness."  He ruffled Jarem's hair fondly.  "This one would surely be with the gods if I had not intervened.  I found him on the roadside, half-dead with cold and exhaustion, his so-called Master busy flogging his only horse to death for being ill.  A little kindness on my part has paid me back a hundred-fold and more."   
  
"I hope for the same from my new slave," said Daniel.  "He reportedly can read and write, and once he learns our tongue, I have hopes that he will be able to take certain burdens from my shoulders."   
  
"He is a foreigner?"   
  
Daniel nodded.  "He was captured with a group of northern warriors, but is obviously not a warrior himself.  He is bright and eager to learn, but communication is... difficult."   
  
El-Yafe looked thoughtful.  "I can speak a few words in several of the northern tongues, and Jarem has a smattering.  I hope you don't think it presumptuous, but I would be happy to offer our services as a translator, if you wish."   
  
"They speak more than one language?"   
  
Jarem nodded, opened his mouth, and then closed it quickly.  El-Yafe chuckled.  "He's irrepressible.  There are... five? six? different tongues?"  He looked at Jarem.   
  
"Seven," he said, "if you count high and low Gaulish, which seem to share a similar structure, but-"  He stopped abruptly when el-Yafe nudged him with his knee.   
  
"I had no idea..." Daniel said slowly.  "That might explain their difficulty in uniting under a single crown."   
  
"Well, it certainly doesn't make it any easier."  El-Yafe paused.  "Shall I send Jarem to fetch your slave?"   
  
Daniel hesitated for a moment.  El-Yafe seemed anxious to offer his services, even a little over-anxious.  But perhaps he was simply being kind.  "Yes, thank you.  It would be a great help to me.  I believe your slave will find him in the kitchen."   
  
El-Yafe's eyes flashed for a second and some indefinable expression crossed his face, and he gave Jarem's shoulder a pat.  "Fetch el-Rydal Effendi's slave."  Jarem nodded and hurried out the door.  El-Yafe turned to Daniel.  "Have you given him a name yet?"   
  
Daniel shifted uncomfortably and his face grew warm.  "Ah, well, you spoke of indulging your slave, and I must admit that I'm guilty of the same weakness.  He wishes to keep his name, and I hadn't the heart to deny him, especially during his illness."  He frowned.  "Many would chide me for allowing this, but it's such a little thing..."   
  
El-Yafe chuckled.  "Loyalty and trust are inspired by little things, Effendi.  I would venture to say that you have started out well."   
  
Daniel wasn't certain if he'd agree that he had started out well, but before he could reply, Jarem stood in the doorway, Casey a step behind him.   
  
El-Yafe inhaled sharply.  Daniel glanced at him, surprised to see el-Yafe start from his seat, then sit down hard.  His mouth was moving, but Daniel could not hear what he was saying.   
  
Daniel turned back to Jarem and Casey, bewildered.  What in the name of the five holy shrines was happening? 


	10. Chapter 10

Daniel glanced at el-Yafe.  Now he was sitting casually, looking at the fingernails of his right hand, his black eyes hooded.   
  
"You may sit here, Casey," Daniel said, pointing to a stool beside his feet.  Without a word, Casey moved to the stool and sat, his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed.  His sun-streaked hair gleamed in the firelight, the flickering light picking out the strong planes of his face.   
  
"Did you speak to him, boy?" Daniel asked Jarem, who shook his head and knelt beside his master.   
  
"What would you like to ask him, el-Rydal Effendi?"  El-Yafe's voice was soft, and his hand crept to rest on Jarem's shoulder.  Daniel thought he could see it quiver slightly as his dark fingers dug into the folds of Jarem's tunic.   
  
"First, I'd like to make it clear to him that he will be my personal slave.  He will have duties in my household, and will be answerable to me alone.  He does not need to fear.  If he pleases me, he will have an easy, comfortable life."   
  
El-Yafe leaned forward, his eyes intent.  "Casey?"   
  
After giving Daniel a sidelong glance, he raised his head and looked steadily at el-Yafe.   
  
El-Yafe spoke a few words and Casey's face lit up.  He smiled and responded, his voice low, and Daniel felt a small pang of jealousy that he was not the reason for Casey's joy.   
  
"I asked him which language he speaks," el-Yafe said to Daniel.  "Fortunately, he speaks at least four of the northern tongues, so between all three of us, we should have no difficulty."   
  
Daniel nodded, and listened carefully as el-Yafe and Jarem haltingly spoke, occasionally consulting each other.  Casey's smile faltered and faded as they conveyed Daniel's message.  By the time they had finished, Casey was staring at the floor, his hands clenched in his lap.   
  
"Does he understand?" Daniel asked.   
  
El-Yafe spoke briefly to Casey, who nodded slowly.  He chewed on his lip, then raised his head abruptly and barked out a question.  El-Yafe looked taken aback and a blush spread over Jarem's face.   
  
"He wants to know how... personal a slave he will be," said el-Yafe primly.   
  
"That depends on how well he pleases me," snapped Daniel, affronted at such a personal question from a slave, of all things.  "Although he seemed to enjoy himself yesterday."   
  
El-Yafe cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and stammered out a few sentences.  Casey whirled toward Daniel, his eyes blazing, his jaw set.  For a moment, Daniel wondered if he was going to spring from his stool and attack. He shifted his hand to his belt where his dagger hung and met Casey's eyes, thrilled by the fire in their depths, by the way they suddenly widened.  When Casey's tongue darted out to wet his lips, it took all of Daniel's self-control not to drag him to the floor and take him right there.   
  
Casey's eyes flickered, then fell, and he nodded once.  Daniel felt a surge of triumph, but he schooled the smile from his lips and reached out, cupping Casey's chin and lifting his head until Casey reluctantly met his gaze.   
  
"I told you I would make it good for you," Daniel murmured, running his fingers over Casey's silky hair, around the curve of his ear, over his lips.  "After the binding, I will *always* make it good for you..."   
  
He heard Jarem speak strangely muffled words.  All Daniel's attention was focused on the man before him, on the warm, trembling flesh beneath his fingers.  Casey gasped and squeezed his eyes shut.  A single tear glistened at the corner of his eye, then trailed down his pale cheek. Daniel wiped it away with his thumb, then licked the salty drop, not caring that el-Yafe and his slave were witnesses to his weakness.   
  
Casey spoke softly, a question.  He opened his eyes and Daniel willingly fell into their depths.   
  
"What is the binding?" asked Jarem.  Daniel never took his eyes from Casey as he answered.   
  
"It is where you are presented to my family as my slave, and your mark of possession is made permanent.  After that, you will always be mine."   
  
Casey met his gaze and spoke again, but his words were a rapid sing-song that sounded vaguely familiar.  When neither el-Yafe or his slave translated, Daniel tore his eyes away.   
  
"What is he saying?" he rasped, his throat suddenly tight.   
  
El-Yafe raised his eyes, and Daniel was startled by their bleak expression.  "He prays," said el-Yafe in a whisper.   
  
"For deliverance?"   
  
El-Yafe jerked his head once.  "No," he said, and his voice was as bleak as his eyes.  "He prays for the strength to endure..."   
  
Daniel was stunned.  "Are my touches so repugnant to him?"  He whirled to Casey, grabbing his shoulders tightly, feeling the heat of anger blaze through him.  Casey stared at him, wide-eyed, his lips still moving.  "Do I disgust you?  Do I?" he shouted, shaking Casey as el-Yafe translated.   
  
"No!" Casey shouted, his head jerking as Daniel shook him.  "No!"  A stream of words poured from him, and Daniel released him abruptly and stood.   
  
"What does he say?"   
  
El-Yafe swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on Casey, who sat slumped on the stool, face hidden by the fall of his hair.  "He says that you do not disgust him, far from it.  He has never..." El-Yafe hesitated, then turned to Jarem and nodded.   
  
Jarem flashed his master a worried glance and continued.  "He has never felt such pleasure as that which you have given him with your hands and mouth.  He says he is yours to do with as you please."   
  
Daniel took a deep, shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair.  His knees felt weak and he sat down heavily.  It was hard to breathe, hard to swallow, hard to think of anything other than the man sitting next to him.   
  
"Tell him..." he began, forcing the words out of his tight throat.  "Tell him that..."  Shaking his head, frustrated, he cupped his fingers under Casey's chin again and raised his head.  "I will give you so much...  You have no idea..."   
  
Jarem murmured a translation. Casey's eyes fluttered closed and he nodded, panting softly.   
  
"Sir?"  Daniel quickly dropped his hand and looked up at Mustafa, standing in the doorway.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Would you like your dinner now, sir?  Roya has it prepared, if you are ready to eat."   
  
"Yes, I would," replied Daniel, struggling to regain his composure, "and I would be honored if el-Yafe Effendi would share my table."   
  
"It would be *my* honor," said el-Yafe quickly.  "And if I might make a suggestion, el-Rydal Effendi..."  He paused, looking at Daniel questioningly.   
  
"Of course."   
  
"Since we are the only guests, would you object to including our... slaves in the invitation?  That way we can eat and continue whatever additional translations you might wish."   
  
It was an unusual request, certainly, but Daniel only took a moment before he nodded in agreement.  "An excellent idea, Effendi."  Strangely, El-Yafe looked relieved.   
  
Mustafa bowed, his face a careful blank, and left.  Daniel had no idea how much he had overheard, but he was not worried.  Mustafa was not a gossip.  In a few moments, Sharif entered and arranged the tables for dining.  He looked slightly startled when Daniel beckoned Casey to the seat beside him at the table, but he quickly finished his tasks and disappeared.   
  
Mustafa and Roya entered a moment later, bearing trays.  Daniel's mouth watered at the rich fragrance of the thick stew set before him.  Warm, fresh bread and wine completed the meal.  He looked over at Casey's bowl.  The contents looked different.  "What have you given him?" he asked Roya.   
  
"Soup, sir, suitable for delicate stomachs.  He may also have bread," she added, pointing to the bread and smiling for Casey's benefit.  "But I would water his wine, sir."   
  
"Thank you, Roya."  Daniel made sure Casey's wine was mixed with water, and handed him a chunk of bread before starting his own meal.  They ate in silence for a while - Daniel could not believe how hungry he was - and he kept a watchful eye on how much Casey ate.   
  
"What shall we ask him now, el-Rydal Effendi," said el-Yafe suddenly.   
  
Daniel paused, his spoon half-way to his mouth.  "Ask him if he has any questions about his duties."   
  
El-Yafe hesitated, then blurted, "Would you like to know more about how he was captured?  Or something about his life before..."  His voice trailed off and he quickly took a drink of wine.   
  
Daniel set down his spoon and pushed his bowl to one side.  "I do not think," he said quietly, but very, very firmly, "that it does any good for a new-made slave to remember his previous life.  He must set it aside, forget who and what he was, merely using his skills for his new master's benefit.  To remind him of what was would be unnecessarily cruel, to my mind."   
  
El-Yafe's eyes narrowed and his expression hardened, but he nodded once and stared at his bowl.  "Your words are true, Effendi, and I did not mean to give offense.  I simply thought that you might be interested in his story."   
  
"I am," Daniel said.  "I wish to know everything about him, and one day I will.  But not just yet, when the wounds are still fresh and the world he must inhabit is still bewildering."  Daniel picked up his spoon with an air of finality.   
  
After an awkward pause, el-Yafe spoke of generalities again, and the remainder of their meal passed quietly.  Daniel was pleased when Casey finished his bowl of soup and bread, and filled his cup with water and wine when he drained it.  He wondered briefly why it did not bother him to wait upon his slave, but he quickly dismissed the thought.   
  
When Mustafa came to clear away their plates, Daniel stood and beckoned Casey.  "It has been a great pleasure to speak with you, el-Yafe Effendi, and I am in your debt for your services as translator.  But it is time for us to retire; we must depart early in the morning and we have a long day's journey before us."  Daniel bowed his head.  "My home is always open to you, Effendi.  It would be a pleasure to speak with you again."   
  
El-Yafe acknowledged Daniel's bow with one of his own.  "It has been our very great pleasure, el-Rydal Effendi, and I hope one day to take up your kind offer of hospitality.  Safe journey tomorrow. May the gods always look upon you favorably, and may you and yours gain their blessings."   
  
Daniel led Casey back to their room, where they spent a productive half-an-hour in a language lesson.  Casey learned the names for many household items, such as bed, room, chair, and practiced a few useful phrases, such as "please" and "thank you."  Although tacitly ignored, Casey's admission shimmered between them, tentative and fragile. When Daniel suddenly looked up at Casey, he would have sworn he saw it, delicate threads connecting them, already wrapped around their aching bones.   
  
"It's time to sleep," Daniel said abruptly, pointing to Casey's pallet.  Eyes lowered, Casey nodded, rising and walking over to the corner.  Daniel stripped off his robe and shirt, turning when he heard Casey grunt.  Casey was squatting beside his bed, his robe hiked up to his waist, trying to apply Roya's salve to his ass.   
  
"Curse me, I forgot," Daniel muttered, his cock stirring uncomfortably at the sight of those pale cheeks and the finger tentatively moving between them.  "Casey," he said, shaking his head when Casey looked up.  "I will do that."  Daniel held his hand out for the jar of salve, and, with a blush and a bow of his head, Casey gave it to him.   
  
Daniel's hands were gentle as he tugged the robe over Casey's head and urged him back onto the pallet.  Face scarlet, Casey lay back and spread his legs, his cock already hard and leaking, his hole tight and glistening.  Daniel bit back a moan, his throbbing cock pushing painfully against the soft cotton of his trousers.   
  
Applying salve to his finger, he pushed it slowly into Casey's ass, working it in deeply.  Casey panted and groaned, his hips shifting restlessly as Daniel plunged his finger in and pulled it out, twisting it to spread the salve evenly.   
  
"Please," Casey whimpered when Daniel pulled his finger out to scoop up more salve.  "Please, Master."   
  
His plea hit Daniel's groin like fire.  He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of Casey's cock, pushing two fingers deep into his hole.  Casey let loose a muffled shout, half his hand stuffed into his mouth, as Daniel slid his lips further down the shaft and dragged his tongue over the tightly stretched skin.   
  
Closing his eyes, Daniel concentrated on the taste of Casey, the feel of his fingers deep inside Casey's hot, spasming ass, and felt a wash of such joy and tenderness that he was completely unsurprised when his own cock suddenly jerked and pulsed and his trousers grew damp.  He sucked harder, gave his fingers a brutal twist, and his mouth was filled with Casey's cock and Casey's seed.  
  
He swallowed thickly, his fingers stilling, buried to the knuckles, and he sucked and licked the velvety skin that was softening in his mouth.  Fingertips tentatively touched his cheek and he opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of a gently smiling Casey.  His caresses grew bolder, traveling over Daniel's eyebrows and down the length of his nose, playfully brushing the tip.  His eyes darkened and he hesitated, then slowly touched Daniel's lips, still stretched around his limp cock.   
  
Daniel let Casey's cock slip from his lips and lunged forward, capturing Casey's mouth and kissing him demandingly.  He licked and sucked and nibbled until Casey was groaning deep in his throat and pushing down hard on Daniel's fingers.  When Daniel twisted his hand, Casey grunted sharply and wriggled.   
  
"Sorry," murmured Daniel, pulling out his fingers and giving Casey a pat.  "Let's get you cleaned up, and then sleep."  He dampened a cloth and wiped Casey's ass and groin, then looked down at the wet spot on the front of his trousers and sighed.  Casey reached up, his fingers groping for the fastening of Daniel's trousers, but Daniel shook his head and gently pushed Casey's hands away.  "Go to sleep," he said, stumbling over to his own pallet, willing his thickening cock to sleep as well.   
  
"Thank you, Master..." sleepily drifted from the far corner of the room.   
  
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut.  Only one more day. 


	11. Chapter 11

Daniel woke at dawn, the sky outside his window growing rosy with the promise of the day.  He washed quickly in the cold water and dressed.   
  
"Casey, it's time to wake."   
  
A groan greeted him and he smiled to himself.  His new acquisition was not naturally an early riser.  This could prove interesting.   
  
He crossed to Casey's pallet, leaned over and stripped the blanket off his sleeping form.  Casey was on his stomach and he shivered and mumbled a soft protest, his ass moving enticingly.   
  
Daniel knelt and dropped a kiss on one ass cheek, then smacked it gently.  With a yelp, Casey twisted around onto his back, his hands behind him, covering his ass.  His cock stirred as Daniel eyed him hungrily, and, with a shy smile, he slowly spread his legs and raised his knees.   
  
"Good morning," Daniel said, his mouth surprisingly dry.  He picked up the jar of salve from beside the bed.  Casey's eyes closed and he hitched his legs higher, his cock filling rapidly, and Daniel suddenly found it very hard to breathe.   
  
"Not today," he said roughly, and Casey blinked up at him, bewildered.  Daniel applied the salve quickly, and when he stood and wiped his hand, Casey sat up and gestured to his hard cock.   
  
"No?" He looked disappointed and hurt.   
  
"Later," said Daniel.  "After we arrive home.  After the binding."   
  
Casey nodded and scrambled to pull on the robe, then, after a questioning glance at Daniel, washed his face and hands.  He pulled off the bandages on his wrists, ankles and neck, and Daniel checked his wounds.  They were healing nicely, and after applying more salve, Daniel decided to forego bandages and allow them the benefit of the air.  He packed the salve and more bandages in his bag, however, for Casey would need them both tonight.   
  
They breakfasted lightly, and Roya provided them with a bag of food for their journey.  Sharif had the horses saddled and tethered.  When Casey mounted Salimeh, he looked at Daniel warily and raised his hands.   
  
"Bindings?" he asked softly.   
  
Daniel shook his head.  "Not until we are home."   
  
Casey ventured a nod and looked relieved.   
  
They started down the dusty path back to the road.  Daniel looked back to check on the tether and caught a glimpse of a dark face in one of the windows of the inn.  Daniel briefly wondered at el-Yafe's interest in them, and then dismissed the matter from his mind.  He had to keep an eye open for soldiers and guards, for he was traveling with an unmarked slave who was not bound, and he also wished to continue Casey's language lessons.  If he was going to be any use to Daniel at all, Casey had to have a basic mastery of the language.   
  
He began the lessons almost immediately, and was pleased and astonished at how rapidly Casey learned.  They practiced vocabulary and basic grammar, Casey absorbing it all, sponge-like, his confidence growing as the day passed.   
  
During their brief breaks Casey would stretch, muscles popping, and surreptitiously rub his ass.  After they had relieved themselves during a break in the early afternoon, Casey looked at Daniel.  "Home... is who?" he asked, speaking slowly, carefully wrapping his tongue around the unfamiliar sounds.   
  
"My father, Yakob, is the head of the family.  I am his eldest son."  Daniel held up his hand, ticking off names on his fingers.  "My father has three brothers - Benyamin, Shaul, and Hezekih - and thirteen cousins - Reuben, Jonan, Paul, Malik, Jorje, Patr, Guill, Kris, Dauid, Zakarih, Maimon, Abram, and Hektor.  They all have wives and children and slaves."   
  
"You has... have a wife?"   
  
Daniel nodded.  "Yes.  One.  Aloise.  She is very young - nine years old."   
  
Casey's jaw dropped and he looked horrified.  "Nine?"  He held up nine fingers, as if checking that he understood.  When Daniel nodded his confirmation, he scowled and muttered something that Daniel did not understand.   
  
"I don't bed her, yet," Daniel said stiffly, guessing at the cause of Casey's reaction.  Casey cocked his head, looking confused, and Daniel explained.  "I don't..." He gestured toward his groin and shook his head.  Casey's face cleared.   
  
"No babies?"   
  
"No.  Only after she is old enough to bleed for one year."   
  
"Good."  Casey's voice was quiet, but very firm.   
  
They made good time, but the sun was setting as they rode around a large stone outcropping and Daniel halted the horses.  "We are at the border of my father's lands," he said, digging in a bag and pulling out the collar and chain.  "You must be bound now."   
  
Casey's face paled, but he nodded and lifted his chin.  Daniel's fingers shook as he fastened it around Casey's neck.  Before binding his wrists and ankles, Daniel wrapped them with bandages to pad them and prevent the leather from chafing.   
  
When he finished fastening the bindings, Daniel set his jaw and chained Casey's feet, hands, and collar to the saddle, then mounted Zeina. He could not bring himself to look at Casey.  Resolutely facing forward, he urged the horses down the path toward the settlement.  Along the route, guards stopped them twice.  Each one issued a challenge, then sheathed his sword and bowed when Daniel spoke, commending them on their diligence.  The bound and chained slave only warranted a glance, simply a new possession of their master's eldest son.   
  
Daniel's heart sped up as they approached the sprawling group of buildings that made up his father's compound.  He would have to go see his father as soon as possible and arrange for the permanent binding, but first he wanted to get Casey safely to his rooms.   
  
He directed Zeina around the back of the buildings to the stable, where he quickly unchained Casey and left the horses to the care of the stable boys.  Holding the chains and motioning for Casey to move as quietly as possible, Daniel led him to his set of rooms, breathing a sigh of relief when he closed the door behind them.   
  
Casey looked around, eyes wide.  "Home?"   
  
"Yes," Daniel nodded, unfastening the bindings and placing them on a chest.  "These are my rooms."   
  
"Wife?" Casey asked, fingering the heavy brocade curtains that separated the receiving room from Daniel's bedroom.   
  
"She has her own set of rooms," Daniel replied shortly, pulling off his robe and shirt, and quickly washing his hands and face in a basin.  He rummaged through a chest and pulled out a soft, burgundy silk thobe, a long, embroidered robe with wide sleeves.  Shucking his boots and trousers, Daniel ducked into the silk and emerged, blinking at a laughing Casey.   
  
"What's so funny?"   
  
"You look..." Casey chuckled again.  "You look like a..." He used a word that Daniel did not know.  Cupping his hand, palm down, Casey poked a finger out one end and wiggled it.   
  
"Tortoise," said Daniel as he straightened his thobe, smiling at the joke.   
  
"Tortoise," repeated Casey.   
  
Daniel brushed his hair quickly, tying it back with a thong.  "I must go see my father," he explained.  "I will be back soon."   
  
Casey looked at him apprehensively.  "Father... and binding?"  He pointed to himself.   
  
Daniel nodded.  "First father, then binding."  The sight of the tense form across the room tugged at him, and he quickly crossed to where Casey was standing, his hands tightly clasped.  "I *will* make it good for you," he whispered, running a hand lightly down Casey's arm.  "I promise."   
  
"Promise?" Casey touched a fingertip to Daniel's lips.  With a tiny kiss, Daniel broke away.   
  
"Yes," he said roughly, striding to the door.  "Sit, and wait for me.  I will be back soon." 


	12. Chapter 12

Daniel hurried down the path to his father's rooms.  It was still early; he would be in his receiving room or study, and Daniel hoped he could see his father alone.   
  
As he turned a corner, he saw El'yt's round figure approaching from the direction of the women's quarters and beckoned to him.   
  
El'yt looked mildly surprised as he bowed.  "Master Daniel.  I did not know you had returned."   
  
"I arrived a few moments ago," Daniel said, loudly, "and am on my way to pay my respects to my father." He lowered his voice.  "There will be a binding tonight, for a male.  Please make the preparations and bring everything to my rooms."   
  
"Of course, Master Daniel."  El'yt looked pleased.  "May I offer my congratulations on the acquisition of the first of your household?"   
  
"Thank you," Daniel said, and took a step away.  He turned, his face strangely warm.  "Do not prepare him.  I will tend to that myself."   
  
El'yt's eyebrows crept up his forehead, but he merely bowed and disappeared in the direction of Daniel's rooms.   
  
Daniel continued down the walkway to the heavy carved doors at the entrance to his father's rooms.  He nodded to the guards there and took a deep breath, lifting his chin.   
  
Pushing open the doors, he stepped inside and glanced around the large room.  Thick carpets, heavy wall hangings and comfortable low furniture strove to hide the massive walls and fortress-like air of the empty room. It oppressed Daniel as much as it made him feel safe.   
  
"Father?"  He crossed to a small doorway, half-hidden by a brocade hanging.   
  
"So, you have returned, have you?"   
  
Daniel stepped inside the small study, its sparseness a contrast to the opulence of the receiving room.  A low desk, a scattering of plain pillows, and whitewashed walls gave the room an ascetic appearance.  An older man with graying hair sat behind the desk, his deep blue robe so dark it looked almost black.  He was talking with a tall, dark-skinned man whose hair cascaded over his shoulders in thick ropes.   
  
His father gestured toward a pillow and Daniel sat, waiting patiently for him to finish.   
  
"See to it," his father finally said and the other man rose, nodding at Daniel.   
  
"Cousin Dauid," Daniel said, shifting on his pillow, willing his heart to slow.   
  
"Welcome back, cousin Daniel," Dauid said, then ducked through the doorway. Daniel turned to his father.   
  
"When did you arrive?"  His father picked up a piece of paper and studied it.   
  
"A few moments ago.  I merely took enough time to wash and change before I came to see you."   
  
His father nodded, not looking up from the paper.  "What's the news?"   
  
Daniel related what he had heard in the town, as well as the news he had learned from el-Yafe.  When he finished, his father snorted, eyes still on the paper.  "Bourgoulla's an ass, but that should be expected, I suppose.  Dar Es Salla should never have been left so lightly defended in the first place.  If he had half-an-ounce of imagination, I'd suspect that he arranged the entire attack to give his soldiers something to do..."   
  
He suddenly looked up from the paper, his eyes sharp.  "Will there be a binding tonight?"  Daniel nodded, his mouth dry.  "Male or female?" he continued, his eyes narrowing.   
  
"Male," Daniel said, startled by the roughness in his voice.  He cleared his throat.   
  
His father nodded once.  "Sensible.  Tell me about him."   
  
Sweat trickled down Daniel's ribs, and he lifted his arms away from his body a little.  His armpits were steaming, but the rest of his body was chilled.  He swallowed.   
  
"He is well-built and healthy, intelligent, and a quick study."   
  
"Age?"   
  
"Young, but not a child or youth."   
  
"Skills?"   
  
Daniel relaxed a little.  "He speaks several languages, and reportedly can read and write."   
  
His father's eyebrows lifted, and Daniel's gut clenched.  "Reportedly?  You did not verify this?"   
  
"No, sir," he said quietly.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because he is learning our language, and I did not have the chance-"   
  
"You mean you bought a slave - the first slave of your new household - who cannot speak our tongue?"  His tone was icy.   
  
"Yes, sir."  It was barely a whisper.   
  
His father stared at him for a long moment, then put down the paper and sighed.  "How much did you pay?"   
  
"Twelve thousand."   
  
"Twelve...  You paid *twelve thousand* for a primary slave who cannot-"   
  
"I have been teaching him, sir," Daniel interrupted recklessly, "and he knows the words for most household items and-"   
  
"Silence!"  His father's hand came down hard on the desk.  Daniel closed his mouth and willed his shaking body to remain still.  With a glare in his direction, his father picked up another piece of paper.  "I sent you out to perform a simple task.  A task which any idiot could perform.  Instead, you return with a foreigner who cannot speak our tongue, who is unfamiliar with our ways, who *reportedly* can read and write another language, and who cost you twelve thousand."  He looked at the paper in his hand.  "Go.  I will see you at the binding."   
  
"Yes, sir."  Daniel rose and bowed, then walked swiftly from his father's rooms.  He hoped he could return to his own rooms before he lost the war with his churning stomach.   
  
Bursting through the door, Daniel stopped short at the sight of an adamant Casey sitting on a cushion, arms crossed over his chest, staring down a flushed and angry El'yt.   
  
"What is the trouble?" Daniel barked.   
  
"Master Daniel," El'yt began, "I did as you asked."  He pointed to a pile of items collected on a low table.  "Everything is ready for the binding.  I have been trying to explain to this..."  He broke off and glared at Casey again.  "He refuses to be bathed, to even stand up!"   
  
Casey returned El'yt's glare.  "Master say sit and wait," he said with a nod at Daniel.   
  
Daniel forced himself to breathe deeply before responding, his jangled nerves calming.  "El'yt, he is learning our language and our ways, but everything is still strange to him.  He was following my orders, but you weren't aware of them.  Now, leave us.  I will be responsible for preparing him.  Go and tell my wife I will breakfast with her tomorrow morning."   
  
El'yt nodded, mollified.  "Of course, sir."   
  
Daniel waited until he closed the door behind him before turning to Casey.   
  
His own troubles were instantly forgotten as he looked at Casey's slumped shoulders and miserable face.   
  
"Master?" Casey whispered, shrinking back.   
  
"I'm not angry," Daniel replied, shaking his head.  He stretched out both of his hands to Casey.  "Come here."   
  
Casey held up his hands and Daniel pulled him to his feet, then slowly wrapped his arms around the shaking body.  With a gasp, Casey hugged him tightly, burying his face in Daniel's neck.  They stood, silently holding each other, for a long time.  Finally, Daniel raised his head and looked at Casey's pale, tense face.  He tried a little smile, but Casey merely blinked and bit his lip.   
  
With a sigh, Daniel slowly unwrapped his arms and stepped back.  "It's time to prepare you," he said, then crossed his arms over his chest, wishing Casey was back in his embrace.   
  
Casey stared at the floor and nodded, drawing a shaky breath.   
  
"Take off-" Daniel began, stopping abruptly.  He drew his fingers down Casey's cheek, then tugged Casey's robe up over his head.  Casey raised his arms, allowing Daniel to pull the robe off and toss it onto the floor.  He stood in the middle of the room, naked, his hands moving nervously over his chest and flanks.   
  
Gathering up the things El'yt had left, Daniel jerked his head toward his bedroom.  "Come."  Casey followed him silently, standing motionless in the doorway as Daniel deposited everything beside the bed.  He sat on the soft mattress, patting the blanket beside him and motioning for Casey to join him.   
  
Casey sat gingerly on the fine wool, his hands caressing it absently.  Daniel spread a thick towel on the bed, then picked up the cleansing bag and fitted the nozzle on the end.  He glanced up - Casey was staring at the bag and nozzle, eyes wide, his breaths deep and unsteady.  His cock was twitching against his thighs, and when his eyes met Daniel's, he turned scarlet.   
  
"Medicine?" he croaked, pointing to the bag.   
  
"No, just water," Daniel said.  He motioned for Casey to move to the towel, and closed his eyes, praying for control, as Casey obediently positioned himself on elbows and knees, ass high and facing Daniel.   
  
Blowing out a stream of stale air, Daniel oiled the nozzle and placed it at Casey's hole.  Casey grunted and relaxed his sphincter, and the nozzle slid in easily.  Releasing the warm water, Daniel watched, fascinated, as Casey groaned and spread his legs wider, his cock and balls hanging heavily between his thighs.  He reached around several times to feel Casey's belly, growing tight from the pressure of the water inside, and brushed against Casey's leaking cock.  By the time all the water had drained from the bag, Casey was squirming and panting, his ass covered with a fine sheen of sweat.  Daniel pulled out the nozzle and pressed his fingers against Casey's tight hole.   
  
"Number?" Casey said, the strain evident in his voice.   
  
"Two hundred," Daniel replied, and softly began to count.  Casey joined him, and Daniel was surprised that he rarely missed a number.   
  
"One hundred ninety eight.  One hundred ninety nine.  Two hundred."   
  
Keeping his fingers pressed tightly to Casey's ass, Daniel guided him to sit back on his knees, and gently palpated his belly.  Casey grunted and the tight muscles around his hole quivered.  Daniel got him to his feet, bent over and clutching his belly, and led him to the small privy beside his rooms.   
  
Casey shook as he released the water, and his cock jutted from his body, red and bobbing.  It took all of Daniel's self-discipline not to fall to his knees and suck it into his mouth.  Instead, he surreptitiously gave his own hard cock a rub, and then motioned Casey to stand when he was finished.   
  
They returned to the bedroom, and Daniel had Casey stand on a towel in the middle of the room as he washed the dust and sweat from his body.  Casey protested, embarrassed, but Daniel insisted, enjoying the sight of fair, soft skin that the water revealed.  He handed Casey a clean towel and then stripped off his thobe, quickly scrubbing at the grime on his own skin.   
  
"Me," Casey said, eyeing Daniel's body and reaching for the washcloth, but Daniel shook his head.   
  
"Tomorrow," he said.  "Not tonight."   
  
A flicker of fear crossed Casey's face, but he dropped his hand and stood, chewing his lip, as Daniel finished washing.   
  
"You can help me dress," Daniel said when he was dry.  He pointed to various articles of clothing, naming them.  Casey would repeat the name and hand it to him.  Daniel decided to dress himself after Casey ran his fingers up the inside of Daniel's thigh while he was helping him pull on his trousers.  It would not do to appear at the binding with his trousers already damp from an orgasm.   
  
Finally dressed, Daniel turned to Casey and lifted a heavy chain.   
  
"Come here." 


	13. Chapter 13

Daniel stepped back and surveyed Casey, standing in the middle of his room.  His wrists were bound behind his back and he wore the ankle cuffs, but he was not hobbled.  There was no need - Daniel held the thick chain connected to his collar.   
  
Casey's face was flushed and his cock was still hard, swaying heavily as he breathed.   
  
Daniel pocketed the jar of salve, then tugged on the chain until Casey stepped close to him.   
  
He dropped a quick kiss on Casey's cheek, then started out the door, Casey reluctantly following him into the night.   
  
Daniel turned to the left and took a path past a series of buildings that housed guards and slaves.  As they passed, the off-duty guards and slaves bowed to Daniel, and nudged and whispered as Casey stumbled behind him.  Daniel did not look back; he simply tugged on the chain when Casey lagged.   
  
He could see the flames from the council circle ahead and picked up the pace.  When they arrived, most of the circle was complete, the central fire and flickering torches throwing strange shadows over the familiar faces and forms.  Daniel walked over to his usual place to the right of his father, Casey trailing.  He turned and hissed, "kneel," then sat on the low stool, still holding the chain.   
  
Casey settled behind him, shifting until he found a comfortable position.  Daniel ignored him, concentrating on the discussion about this year's circuit to visit all the outlying settlements in their lands.  It was an important topic and continued for quite some time, everyone having to give his considered opinion.  Finally, his father slowly looked at every man in the circle and nodded.   
  
"It will be as Benyamin and Daniel suggest."  Yakob turned to Daniel and regarded him steadily for a moment.  "As all of you know, my eldest son is prepared to take the first step in starting his household.  He has purchased his primary slave, and is ready for the binding."   
  
Daniel stood and tugged on the chain.  He heard Casey grunt as he rose; he had been kneeling a long time, and was undoubtedly stiff.  When he was sure that Casey was standing, he walked toward the fire at the center of the circle, pulling Casey after him.   
  
"I, Daniel el-Rydal, son of Yakob and Miriam, nephew of Benyamin, Shaul, and Hezekih, husband of Aloise, declare my intention to begin my own household.  I have purchased this slave as my primary," he held up the chain and gestured toward Casey, "and will now bind him to me and mine.  Look, that you will know him as my slave."   
  
Slowly walking around the inside of the circle, he led Casey past the men.  They considered him carefully, each man memorizing his features, so that they would know to whom he belonged.  Casey's face was expressionless, but the firelight picked out the blush that stained his neck, cheeks and ears.  Daniel saw that his erection had faded.   
  
When the circuit was completed, Daniel stopped in front of his father.  He glanced at Casey, pointed to the small rug on the ground and said "kneel."  Casey bowed his head and knelt, his hands twisting in their bonds.   
  
Daniel waited as Yakob looked over his slave, his frown growing deeper.  Finally, his father nodded.  "Proceed."   
  
Daniel pushed Casey's shoulders forward and down, until his face and shoulders were pressed to the rug.  He nudged Casey's legs apart with his foot, trying to remain calm, trying to be nonchalant, when all he wanted to do was rip open his trousers and plunge his aching cock into Casey's tight ass.   
  
Instead, he knelt behind Casey, opened the jar of salve and carefully applied it to Casey's hole.  He knew some families forbade the use of oil or salve when binding their slaves, but Yakob considered that foolishness, causing more harm than good, and Daniel was grateful that he was permitted to prepare Casey in this way.  He fought back a smile when he heard Casey's soft moan as his finger spread the salve inside.   
  
He *would* make it as good as possible for Casey, even here, in front of the council.  Casey shuddered as Daniel twisted his finger hard and slid it out.  Daniel didn't even need to look to know that Casey's cock was hardening.  He ran his hand slowly over Casey's quivering ass, murmuring softly, and trailed his fingers between his thighs, gently caressing his balls.  When he heard Casey whimper, Daniel leaned forward and caressed his cock, feeling it fill under his fingers.   
  
Taking a shaky breath, Daniel unfastened his trousers, pulled out his stiff cock and placed it against Casey's hole.  He pressed forward firmly, breaching the tight muscles and sliding in smoothly.  The heat and pressure made him dizzy, and he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feel of Casey's hot muscles surrounding him.  When Casey squeezed his ass, Daniel pulled out slowly, then thrust in sharply.  Casey gasped, and Daniel repeated the movement.   
  
He kept his eyes on Casey's long back stretched out before him, on Casey's ass under his fingers, on Casey's bound, tightly clenched hands resting on the small of his back.  Gripping Casey's hips, Daniel continued his slow withdrawal and abrupt return, grinding his pelvis against Casey's ass when he was fully sheathed.  Casey groaned softly and tried to push back against him, but his awkward position prevented him from moving much.   
  
Daniel could feel his climax building deep in his gut, warm darkness gathering, churning.  He was suddenly covered with a sheen of sweat and he impatiently wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  Leaning forward, he stroked down Casey's back and up his chest, wrapping his hand around Casey's cock and pumping it quickly.  He would not climax alone...   
  
Casey bit back a cry, his cock jerking in Daniel's hand.  With a grunt of pure pleasure, Daniel buried himself as deep as he could and orgasmed.   
  
The fire dimmed as he panted and rested for a moment, still firmly inside Casey's ass.  He waited a few minutes, his cock softening slightly, then carefully pulled out.  After tucking his damp cock into his trousers, he slid his finger into Casey's ass and pulled it out, holding it up for all to see.   
  
"My slave has received my mark of possession," he said, then wiped his finger on Casey's ass.  He rested his hand on one cheek, the fingers gently stroking Casey's flushed skin.   
  
Daniel glanced at Yakob, quickly lowering his eyes at the frown still on his father's face.  He waited for the announcement, trying not to show his nervousness.   
  
"Shaul shall be my proxy," Yakob said after a long pause.  Daniel took a deep breath and relaxed a fraction.  His father would accept Casey as his slave.  Giving Casey's ass a comforting pat, he stood.   
  
Shaul rose and stood beside Daniel.  Shaul stared at Casey's open, glistening ass, his hands busy beneath his robe.  After a few minutes, he pulled out his cock and pumped it quickly.  With a grunt, he splattered his seed over Casey's ass and hole, then tucked his cock away and returned to his seat.  
  
Daniel helped Casey to his feet.  He was shaky and stiff, and the rug bore evidence of his own orgasm.  Daniel held his arm for a moment, then led him to Yakob.   
  
Gesturing for Casey to turn around and spread his legs, Yakob glanced at the come dripping down his ass and out of his hole.  He rubbed it over one cheek and fingered Casey's hole for a minute, pushing some of Shaul's come inside him.   
  
"What will you name him?" he asked.   
  
"Casey."   
  
Yakob shot Daniel an unreadable look. Then he smacked Casey's ass and nodded.  "Daniel el-Rydal has marked Casey as his slave," he said.   
  
"Come," Daniel said, moving Casey over in front of Shaul.  Shaul first inspected his own handiwork before plunging his large finger up Casey's ass.  Casey grunted as Shaul pushed deep, then jerked out and smacked his ass twice.  "Daniel el-Rydal has marked Casey as his slave."   
  
They slowly moved from man to man in the circle. Each one fingered his hole, then smacked Casey's ass, repeating the formula.  Casey endured it silently, his head bent, his cock limp.   
  
By the time they returned to Yakob's seat, Casey's breath was coming a little hitching sobs.  Daniel anxiously tucked a finger beneath his chin and raised his face.  Brown eyes blinked at him, then squeezed shut.  Thankfully, they were dry.  Daniel removed his finger and let Casey's head fall forward.   
  
Motioning to two large slaves who were stationed behind Yakob, Daniel stepped away as they came up to Casey on either side and clasped his upper arms.   
  
Casey's head jerked up and he stared wildly at Daniel.  His throat moved convulsively as he swallowed, but he did not struggle.   
  
Turning abruptly, Daniel walked to the fire. He picked up a thick wad of cloth and wrapped it around a metal rod, one end of which rested in the fire.  Pulling it out, Daniel raised the glowing end of the brand above his head.   
  
"I, Daniel el-Rydal, son of Yakob, make Casey my slave for all time.  This mark shall prove it."   
  
He approached Casey, who was staring at the rod, eyes wide.  He looked beseechingly at Daniel and shook his head once.  "No..."  His lips moved, but there was no sound.   
  
Daniel nodded to the slave holding Casey's left arm.  Changing his grip, the slave held Casey's shoulder and upper arm tightly.  Daniel glanced at Casey's terrified face and almost dropped the brand.  He bit his lip and focused on the top of Casey's arm, where the brand would go.  The skin was creamy and pale, unblemished.  Swallowing hard at the bile that suddenly rose, bitter and harsh, in his throat, Daniel held the brand a few inches from Casey's flesh, positioning it correctly.  That pale skin grew ruddy, reflecting the glow of the hot metal.   
  
"No, please, Master..."   
  
The words were whispered, but they slammed into him like a blow.  He set his jaw, willed his shaking hands to be steady, and pushed the brand against Casey's arm.   
  
He expected the scream, expected the hiss of the hot metal meeting skin, but he did not expect the overpowering stench of burning flesh.  Daniel's stomach rebelled. Dropping the brand, he stumbled between the council members and heaved painfully into the low shrubs surrounding the area.   
  
A hand dropped onto his back and rubbed gently.  When he groaned and straightened, a cup of water was pushed into his hands and he rinsed his mouth.   
  
"Thank you," he said, looking ruefully at his cousin Guill standing beside him.   
  
"It was your first," Guill said with a shrug.  "It usually happens."   
  
"Cas-"  He broke off.  "My slave... How is he doing?"   
  
Guill cocked his head to one side, looking at Daniel thoughtfully.  "Fine, I think.  Will you be able to finish?"   
  
Daniel rubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath.  "Yes."  He dropped his hands and squared his shoulders.  Handing Guill the cup, he returned to the circle.   
  
Casey was kneeling on the rug before Yakob, his head almost down to his knees.  His back shook.  Daniel turned to his father.   
  
"My apologies, father.  I am prepared to finish the binding."   
  
Yakob smiled briefly.  "You are forgiven, son.  You will find it easier the next time."   
  
Daniel nodded.  He knelt beside Casey and leaned forward, his face close to Casey's.   
  
"We are almost finished," he whispered.  Placing his hand on Casey's wet cheek, he urged him to sit up.  Casey's eyes were shut, and tears and mucous smeared his face.  Daniel wiped his cheeks and nose, then spread some salve over the angry burn on Casey's arm.  Casey hissed through clenched teeth and more tears leaked out from beneath his lids.  When Daniel had completely covered the burn with the salve, he helped Casey to his feet.   
  
"My mark has been placed on this slave.  From henceforth, he will be known as Casey, slave of Daniel el-Rydal."   
  
Daniel unfastened Casey's hands, allowing his arms to hang at his sides.  He unfastened the ankle and wrist cuffs and dropped them to the ground.  When he stood to unfasten the collar, he was startled to find Casey's eyes open. Tears sparkled on his eyelashes.  He was staring at Daniel intently, his eyebrows drawn together.   
  
Daniel met his gaze steadily.  "You are mine," he murmured as he loosened the collar and dropped it with the cuffs.   
  
"You are to be congratulated, my son."   
  
Daniel quickly turned to his father, bowing his thanks.  "Thank you, sir."  He hesitated for a moment, then continued.  "Sir, may I dine in my rooms tonight?  It has been a long, tiring journey..."   
  
"Of course.  We will speak more tomorrow."  Yakob waved his hand dismissively and turned to Benyamin.  Daniel beckoned to Casey and led the way back to his rooms.   
  
Daniel waited for Casey to enter, then shut the door behind him.  Casey walked to the middle of the room, his arms wrapped around his stomach, and turned to Daniel, shaking horribly.   
  
"It is finished," Daniel said, carefully wrapping his arms around Casey and holding him close, murmuring soft words of comfort.  After a few minutes, Casey shifted, untucking his arms and tentatively sliding them around Daniel.  With a sigh, Casey relaxed into Daniel's embrace.   
  
"You are mine," Daniel whispered, unable to suppress the triumph in his voice.   
  
"Yours..."  Casey said thickly.  His arms tightened around Daniel and he sighed. 


	14. Chapter 14

Daniel was expecting the knock that sounded at the door and released Casey, stepping back a pace.   
  
"Enter."   
  
El'yt bustled in with an armful of clothing, leading two slaves carrying heavy, steaming ewers.  He directed them to Daniel's bedroom, then turned to Daniel.   
  
"Warm water for you to wash, Master Daniel.  I have prepared a pallet for your slave..."  He hesitated.   
  
"Casey," said Daniel.   
  
El'yt nodded.  "For Casey and placed it in your bedroom.  Unless you would prefer for him to sleep elsewhere?"   
  
"No."  Daniel's voice was rough. "He will sleep here."   
  
"Very well.  And I brought him clothing."  He lifted his arms.   
  
"You are your usual efficient self," Daniel said with a smile.  "Place Casey's clothing over there," he pointed to a chest against the wall.  "I will be dining here tonight.  Have my food brought in an hour."   
  
El'yt bowed and gestured the slaves out the door.  "Thank you, Master Daniel."  He shut the door firmly as he left.   
  
Daniel looked at Casey, and jerked his head toward the bedroom.  "Time to wash, while the water's still warm."   
  
He had Casey stand on a towel, as before, and washed the sweat and semen from his skin, keeping his touch gentle and soothing, not trying to generate a response from Casey's exhausted body. He carefully wiped Casey's face, erasing the tear tracks with warm water and soap. Avoiding the brand, Daniel helped him to dry himself.  He wrapped a bandage around his upper arm, then pointed him to the pile of clothes El'yt left.  As Casey slipped into a loose robe, Daniel tugged off his own shirt and trousers and stepped on the towel.   
  
Grabbing a cloth, he soaped up his arm, only to have Casey's hands move over his, stilling them.   
  
"Me," said Casey, pulling the cloth from Daniel's suddenly nerveless fingers.  With a small frown of concentration, Casey set to work, gently but firmly wiping every inch of Daniel's skin, paying particular attention to certain places that Daniel had never thought of as having erotic possibilities.  By the time he was finished, Daniel's cock was rock hard and weeping, and Casey was trying to hide his smirk.   
  
Grabbing another towel, Daniel glared at the man standing before him as he gingerly dried his groin, working around his bobbing cock.   
  
"This is *not* what I had in mind for tonight," he muttered, tossing the towel to the floor and carefully pulling a clean robe over his head.  The material tented over his groin, and he batted at it, half-frustrated, half-amused.   
  
"*I* want to," said Casey softly.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I *want* to," Casey repeated.   
  
"You want to?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"You want..."  Daniel blinked.  "What are we talking about?  What exactly do you want?"   
  
Casey's face grew pink and he gestured toward Daniel's tented robe.  "You."   
  
"You want me?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Daniel sucked in a lungful of air, let it out with a whoosh, and sat heavily on the side of the bed, shaking his head.  He felt dizzy and stunned at Casey's words.   
  
"Master?"  There was a pause.  "Master?  I said... bad?"   
  
Looking up into Casey's suddenly frightened face, Daniel jumped up and slid his hands around Casey's waist, pulling him close.  He touched his forehead to Casey's and closed his eyes.   
  
"No, you said good," he murmured, shivering as Casey's arms slowly crept up his back, stroking gently.  "I never expected...  I did not think..."  He sighed in frustration.  "Later, after dinner, I will make it better for you.  So much better..."   
  
"Better?"   
  
Daniel opened his eyes and stared into Casey's.  "Yes.  *Much* better.  Just the two of us, no ritual, no bindings."   
  
Casey blinked and swallowed, his eyes flickering to the floor and then back to meet Daniel's.   
  
"The two of us, *much* better.  The bindings..."  The pink tinting his skin deepened into rose.  "The bindings," he whispered, barely audible, "are good... sometimes."   
  
Daniel's sight dimmed, his ears pounded with the sound of his heartbeat, and felt as if he had been dipping in scalding water.  His cock twitched, and Casey pressed firmly against him.   
  
Daniel gulped and forced his eyes open.  "Later," he rasped.  "After dinner."   
  
Casey frowned and stroked Daniel's back.  "Why later?"   
  
"Because I don't want us to hurry," Daniel said, releasing his hold and stepping out of Casey's embrace.  He smoothed his robe, hoping to hide the shaking of his hands.  "We will eat first."  Walking to the receiving room, he heard Casey muttering behind him, but ignored it.   
  
Control.  He needed control.   
  
Daniel sat on a pile of pillows beside the low table.  When Casey appeared in the doorway, he raised his chin.  "Pick up the dirty towels and clothing," he said.   
  
Casey paused, puzzled, his eyebrows drawn together.  "Pick up..." he said uncertainly.   
  
"The towels, the clothes," Daniel explained, gesturing as he spoke.  "Gather them up."   
  
Daniel could see understanding dawn in Casey's eyes, and the subsequent frown.  But he did not reply, simply turned back into the bedroom, reappearing with an armful of dirty laundry.   
  
Daniel nodded.  "Good.  For now, put them by the door.  Tomorrow, El'yt will show you what to do."   
  
Walking stiffly to the door, Casey placed the pile there, then turned back to Daniel, bowing his head.   
  
"You may place your clothing there," Daniel said, pointing to a small chest beside the bedroom door.  "That will be yours."   
  
Without a word, Casey gathered up the clothes and placed them in the chest.  As he was folding a tunic, there was a knock on the door.   
  
"Answer that," said Daniel, and Casey's back stiffened even further, but he did not move.  Another knock.  "Answer the door, Casey."   
  
Daniel couldn't see Casey's face as he stood, but his fists were clenched as he crossed the room and jerked open the door.  Outside, a slave stood with a tray.   
  
"Enter," called Daniel.  Glancing briefly at Casey, the slave deposited the tray on the table, then stood, his hands clasped behind his back, and looked at Daniel questioningly.   
  
"You may go."  Daniel dismissed him with a gesture, and the slave hurried out.  "Come, Casey," he said, patting the pillow beside him.  "Come and eat."   
  
Casey slowly approached and sat, his face hidden from Daniel's sight.  With a sigh, Daniel cupped Casey's chin and raised his face.  The anger in his eyes startled Daniel, and then angered him in turn.  His fingers tightened on Casey's chin.   
  
"What did you think would happen?  You are my *slave*."  He leaned forward and forced Casey's chin higher.  "You will do as I tell you.  Do you understand?"   
  
Casey gave an almost imperceptible nod and returned Daniel's glare, then deliberately closed his eyes.   
  
Rage enveloped Daniel.  "I should have left you with the others," he hissed, dropping Casey's chin and scrambling to his feet.  "Filthy, hungry, thirsty...  They would have thrown you to the guards and they would have raped you until you died, or sold you to someone who would starve and beat you!"  He paced the room, kicking pillows out of his way and flinging a stool against the wall.  His voice, harsh and choked, did not rise above a whisper. "I take care of you, tend to your wounds, give you medicine, allow you to rest, and all I receive is insolence in return!"   
  
He whirled and faced Casey, the words dying on his lips.  Casey sat, his arms clasped around his knees, his entire body shaking, his expression terrified.   
  
"Sorry," Casey whispered, his voice breaking.  He blinked hard, his lashes sparkling with unshed tears.  "Sorry, sorry, sorry..."   
  
Daniel felt his rage die as quickly as it had arrived.  He slowly crossed the room and sat, aware of Casey shivering beside him.  He removed the covers from the plates of food and broke off a piece of bread, still warm from the oven.  Turning, he placed it at Casey's lips, waiting until he opened his mouth and took it.   
  
"I will treat you well," he said as Casey chewed the bread, still wracked by occasional shudders.  "But you are *mine*, and I have marked you so."  His fingers gently touched Casey's shoulder near the brand.  Casey flinched, and then he nodded.   
  
"Good.  Now, let us eat."  Daniel spent the meal showing Casey how to fold a piece of flat bread to use as a scoop, and naming dishes and ingredients.  By the time they had finished, Daniel was pleasantly full, and Casey looked more than slightly glassy-eyed and replete.   
  
Leaving the tray, he urged Casey to the bedroom.  Casey headed toward the small pallet El'yt had placed in the corner, but Daniel grabbed his wrist and steered him toward his own bed.   
  
"Casey," he said, wrapping his arms around Casey's chest, pressing close against Casey's back.   
  
"Yes?"  Casey covered Daniel's hands with his own.   
  
"Do you still want me?"   
  
A sharp gasp made Daniel smile.  Casey nodded, his chest moving unevenly beneath Daniel's hands.   
  
"First, I must see if you are injured," Daniel said, moving his hands to cup Casey's ass, "or if you are too sore to enjoy it."   
  
Casey nodded again.  "Medicine?" he asked hopefully, his lips quirking.   
  
"Perhaps."  Daniel pulled up the robe, gathering the material in his hands until Casey's ass was exposed.  Then he urged him to the bed, where Casey got to his hands and knees, legs spread wide, his robe hiked up to his waist.   
  
Daniel's cock stirred at the sight of Casey's ass, but he picked up a lamp and brought it close.  "Casey," he said, taking one of Casey's hands in his and bringing it back to his ass cheek.  "Pull," and Casey grunted and brought his other hand around as well, spreading his cheeks wide to give Daniel an unobstructed view.   
  
His hole was slightly red and puffy, but there were no tears or bleeding.  Daniel was pleased he had taken the time to prepare Casey before entering him.  He opened the jar of ointment and spread it thickly on Casey's hole, dipping his finger inside occasionally, relishing Casey's shiver as he did so.  
  
"Master?" Casey said, his voice catching as Daniel twisted his finger inside.  "Over?"   
  
"Yes..."  Daniel left his finger inside Casey's ass, and after a moment's hesitation, Casey moved his hands and slowly turned onto his back, careful not to kick Daniel as he shifted his legs.  He moaned a little under his breath as Daniel's finger turned inside him, rubbing against his tender muscle.  His cock stood out from his body, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and he spread his legs wider.   
  
"No finger," Casey said, his voice strained.  "*You*..."   
  
Daniel nodded, slid out his finger and pulled his robe over his head.  He held his aching cock in his hand, stroking it once, hard, and then placed it against Casey's slick, twitching hole.   
  
"Master..."  Casey grunted, shifting his hips and pressing against Daniel's cock.   
  
"Shhhh..."  Daniel breathed.  He clasped Casey's thighs, pushing them wider still, avidly watching Casey's face as he licked his lips and struggled to relax his hole.  "Let me in," he said, beseeching, commanding, he didn't know which.   
  
Daniel's hips jerked and suddenly he was inside, deep inside Casey's heat, squeezed tightly, burned, branded himself in a place that no man could see, save the one on his back beneath him.  He thrust forward blindly, plunging deep inside, over and over and again and again, urged on by the voice and hands that plucked at him, drew him deeper and deeper into that inferno.   
  
A cry, and the pressure increased.  He was scorched, scalded, the dross burned off and he was left, clean and whole and proved as he poured himself into that heat.  Slowly, so slowly, he collapsed onto the warm body below him, and was welcomed with open arms.   
  
They slept. 


	15. Chapter 15

It was dark, save for one lone lamp bravely fighting the blackness, when Daniel woke.  He was cramped and cold, lying naked on the top of the bed where he had fallen.  Muttering and shivering, he rolled out of bed and stumbled to the washbasin, where he quickly washed his itchy groin.  He wet a cloth and returned to the bed.  Casey was sprawled over three-quarters of it, deeply asleep, his robe rucked up beneath his armpits, his branded arm resting on his stomach.   
  
Daniel paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of his slave in the wavering lamplight, all long, lean muscles and sharp angles.  Tiny nipples peeked out of the soft hair on his chest, and Daniel touched each one gently, then traced the vulnerable curve of his prominent ribs, moving down to touch the hipbones jutting out on either side of the soft, concave belly.  Running his hand up the inside of Casey's thigh, Daniel coaxed his legs farther apart and then washed his ass and groin.  Casey stirred, murmuring, but did not wake, and it was all Daniel could do to slip off his robe and roll him over enough to pull up the blankets and cover them both.   
  
He curled up behind Casey, fitting himself tightly to his back and wrapping an arm around his chest, careful to avoid the brand.  Casey sighed and settled back against Daniel, his warm ass rubbing softly against Daniel's groin. Too tired to do more than brush Casey's thick hair from his neck and plant a small kiss there, Daniel closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.   
  
"Master Daniel?"   
  
Daniel groaned and rolled onto his back, cracking open an eye.  Bright sunlight flooded the room, spreading over the floor to the doorway, where El'yt stood.   
  
"You can..."  Daniel cleared his throat and tried again.  "You can bring in the water now."   
  
El'yt turned and nodded, and a slave staggered in with a steaming ewer, placing it on the washstand.  Daniel stretched lazily, running a finger down Casey's back.  With a start, Casey jerked and twisted, sitting up and pulling the blanket tightly around his waist.  He looked around the room wildly, scrambling back on the mattress, dragging the blanket completely off Daniel.   
  
"Hey!"  Daniel sat up and held up his hands.  "It's all right, Casey," he said softly, smiling a little.  Casey stared at him for a minute, eyes wide, his breath coming quickly.  "You're safe," Daniel continued, nodding encouragingly.   
  
Casey swallowed hard and blinked at him, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles.  He lowered his eyes and pulled blanket closer, shivering slightly.   
  
"Safe," he murmured with a breathy chuckle.  His lips quirked for a moment, as if he were stifling a smile, then pursed primly.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
He looked up at Daniel without raising his head, his eyes wary.  "Yes?"   
  
"El'yt will show you your duties today.  I must go visit my wife, and then see my father again."   
  
Nodding once, Casey glanced over at El'yt. His hand blindly moved over the blankets, searching, until he found the corner of his robe and pulled it to him, slipping his arms inside.   
  
"Wait," Daniel said to Casey, then he turned to El'yt.  "Wait for him outside.  I wish to dress his arm first."   
  
"It is growing late, Master Daniel," El'yt said, the slightest hint of caution in his voice.   
  
Daniel rubbed his face and frowned.  "Yes, you are right."  Sliding out of bed, he splashed water on his face.  "Give him something for the pain, as well," he instructed as he toweled himself dry.   
  
As he donned the trousers and shirt El'yt held out to him, he heard Casey move on the bed.   
  
"Master?"   
  
Daniel turned to him with a regretful smile.  "I must go, Casey.  El'yt will put more medicine on your arm," he said, heading through the doorway.   
  
"When..."  Casey's voice cut off abruptly, but Daniel stopped at the fear evident in that one word.  He walked deliberately back into the bedroom and over to where Casey sat, nervously fingering the blankets in his lap.   
  
"I will see you later," he said, lifting Casey's chin with a finger.  "Perhaps not until after dinner, however.  In the meantime, I want you to listen to El'yt, and do as he says."  He leaned forward and kissed the tip of Casey's nose.  "Until tonight."   
  
"Tonight," Casey repeated softly, angling his head and offering his mouth for a kiss.  "Please, Master..." he murmured, licking his lips.   
  
Daniel's pleased chuckle was muffled by Casey's mouth as he kissed him quickly but thoroughly.  Pulling away roughly, he stood there, panting, his cock hardening in his trousers.  Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed Casey's chin and rubbed his thumb slowly over Casey's wet lips.   
  
"Tonight," he rasped, nearly choking when Casey gently bit his thumb and trailed a finger over Daniel's cock.  Jerking back his hand, Daniel fled the room.   
  
By the time he reached his wife's rooms, he had composed himself and was able to greet her with a smile and calmly kiss her smooth cheek.  She dimpled and blushed and looked up at him with adoring eyes, playing with the ends of her long braids that peeked out from beneath her headscarf.   
  
"Did you have a good journey, husband?"  Her voice was soft, and Daniel suppressed a shudder at the flat, expressionless tone.  He took her hand and sat down, settling her comfortably on his lap, where she could wrap her arm around his shoulder and face him.   
  
"Yes, I did."  He spoke easily now, no longer inclined to raise his voice or exaggerate his pronunciation.  Neither did any good, as he had learned.  As long as he faced her, she could understand his words.  "I bought the first slave of my household, and bound him to me last night."   
  
She nodded briskly.  "I saw a lot of lights, and wondered what was happening.  But then I fell asleep, and didn't find out."   
  
Daniel looked up at a soft noise from the doorway.  "Breakfast is here," he said.   
  
She slid off his lap and sat across the table from him as the slaves set out bowls of fruit and bread and cups of hot, bitter coffee between them.   
  
"What have you been doing while I was away, my wife?" he asked, slicing an orange into wedges for her as she added honey to her yogurt.   
  
"Many things!" she said solemnly.  "I helped care for the little ones, and treated a cut on little Benya's leg, and rubbed Rebeka's back and feet because they ached and she said that I had just the right touch to relieve her aches, and she let me feel the baby kicking inside her, and continued my lessons, because Salaeh said that I would always be useful if I could read and write..."  Her voice trailed off and a shadow crossed her face.  "Husband," she said quietly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, "may I ask you a question?"   
  
"Of course."   
  
"If I..."  She paled a little, and clasped her hands tighter.  "If I cannot give you healthy babies when I am old enough, you will allow me to stay with you, won't you?  I am learning so much, and I know I will be able to be very useful to you..."  She looked so young and so frightened that Daniel could only open his arms to her, and she scrambled into them, hugging him close.   
  
"First," he said, turning her face so that she could see him, "you will have *many* healthy babies.  Second, I will *not* send you back to your father, regardless of how many babies you bear, and whether or not you can read and write.  You are my wife, and will remain so."  She blinked and ventured a tiny smile.  "Now," he continued, wiping away a little moisture at the corner of her eye, "who put such nonsense into your head?  Was it Salaeh?"   
  
She colored and lowered her eyes, nodding.  Daniel sighed and hugged her tightly.  His father's second wife, his primary wife since Daniel's mother had died, was a never-ending source of discontent in the family.  He would have a word with Salaeh soon, and if that did no good, he would take the matter to his father.  Yakob would *not* be pleased.   
  
"Wife," he said, brushing a kiss on her cheek, "Aloise, you must tell me if Salaeh continues to speak of this.  It is a great falsehood, and you are not to pay any attention to her if she continues to speak of the subject.  Tell me, and I shall ensure that she stops."   
  
Aloise nodded and heaved a great sigh of relief, her small body relaxing against Daniel's.  "Husband," she said, dropping little kisses along Daniel's jaw, her fingers busy with his shirtfront, "when will you take me to your bed?  I am old enough, and I wouldn't mind the pain."  She smiled up at him coyly.   
  
Daniel grabbed her wrists and held them away from his body.  "You are still too young," he said.  "We have discussed this, Aloise.  You know when we will begin to sleep together as husband and wife."   
  
"I know," she pouted, "but some girls become women at my age, or even younger."   
  
"Perhaps, but they are not my wife."  He released her wrists and lifted her off his lap.  "I care for you, Aloise, and I do not want you to be harmed or killed by bearing a child before your body is ready."   
  
"But Guord said that-"  She clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at Daniel, wide-eyed.   
  
He moved to his knees and faced her, cupping her shoulders gently.  "What has Guord said?"   
  
"You will get angry," she whispered between her fingers.   
  
"No, I won't.  I just want to know what he said."   
  
She glanced over at the doorway, seeming to take heart when she saw it was empty.  "He said that I was growing so quickly that you'd soon be able to bed me.  Look," she rubbed her hands over her chest, flattening the silk of her gown, "I am growing breasts.  See?"   
  
Daniel nodded, although her chest looked just as flat and boyish as it had when she had arrived to marry him the year before.  "I see," he said gently, moving his hands down to her waist, "but you must also grow hips to carry and birth a baby, and that will still take some time."  He gave her temple a quick kiss, and released her.  "Now, I must go see my father.  But first I would like a word with Guord.  Where is he?"   
  
"You won't be angry with him?"   
  
"No," he shook his head.  "I simply have some household matters to discuss with him."   
  
"He is usually supervising the laundry or doing the accounts now."  Drawing herself up and crossing her arms over her chest, Aloise continued.  "I must go as well.  I want to check on Benya's leg, and Rebeka is expecting me any moment."   
  
"Good."  Daniel rose. "I am glad you are keeping busy and being useful, my wife.  Now go..."   
  
Aloise flashed him a sunny smile and skipped out the door, looking every one of her nine years and not a second more.  Daniel watched her leave, painfully aware of her youth and his comparative age.  Not for the first time, he cursed the circumstances that had led him to enter him into such a marriage contract, but his frustration was tempered with the knowledge that Aloise, as young and charming and potentially fertile as she was, was also unable to hear.  If she had not been married to Daniel, she might have ended up sold into slavery, or left to die in the desert - a burden to be disposed of as quickly as possible.   
  
"Master Daniel?"  The voice was a little too loud, a little too self-assured, and Daniel schooled the dislike off his face before turning.   
  
Guord stood in the doorway.  Dark-haired, broad-shouldered, with piercing eyes far too bold for a slave's, Daniel had distrusted Guord from the moment he had seen him.  Yet he was his wife's principal slave, efficiently running her household, and although Daniel kept his eyes open, Guord always carefully skirted the lines, staying just within the rules. And yet...   
  
"I have returned with several bolts of silk for your Mistress," Daniel began, "which you can retrieve from my rooms.  I also purchased a number of other things for her.  See El'yt and my new principal slave, Casey, and they will show you."   
  
"Of course, Master Daniel."  There was a hint of amusement in the words, as if there were some huge joke to which Daniel was not privy.   
  
"You are not," Daniel said coolly, "to discuss with your Mistress when she will be ready to be bedded.  Do you understand?"   
  
Guord's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed before he dropped his head.  "I beg your pardon, Master Daniel.  I was merely commenting on how tall my Mistress has grown."   
  
"Her bedding is not a topic that concerns you," Daniel said, turning to leave.  "Or anyone else's bedding.  Especially not any more," he shot back over his shoulder, gaining pleasure from Guord's flushed face. 


	16. Chapter 16

Daniel spent the remainder of the day with his father and his advisors. There was much to discuss - matters that had been merely alluded to in the Council the night before, and Yakob and Daniel must attend to the concerns of each man.  It was an exhausting business, for Daniel was expected to listen patiently and speak wisely on the issues.   
  
They had talked and eaten and talked again, and Daniel found his thoughts wandering to Casey.  How was he?  Was El'yt being patient with him?  Was his branded arm paining him unduly?  He pulled himself back to the conversation with a jerk.   
  
"...reports from the north are disturbing," finished up his cousin Guill.  "What did you hear in town, Daniel?"   
  
"Considering that there were soldiers everywhere," Daniel replied, "and they discouraged any public speculation, the news did not sound promising.  General Bourgoulla is not universally beloved, although the army is loyal.  The king has increased the number of guards around the palace, as well as the town, which leads me to suspect that all is not well, and that the threat from the north is greater than Bourgoulla admits."   
  
Heads nodded gravely around the room.   
  
"It is possible that there could be trouble along our western border in the future," said Yakob.  "Daniel, next week you will travel to the western settlements and ensure their loyalty."   
  
"I would also like to suggest placing watchers along the Negil Cliffs, Father.  They would be able to spot any invaders from a great distance and have time to send a warning."   
  
"A sensible idea," chimed in Shaul.  "A small group of watchers could leave tomorrow, and you could check on them during your journey."   
  
Yakob nodded, looking pleased.  "It shall be as Daniel says.  See to it," he said to Shaul.   
  
It was late afternoon when their business was concluded, and although Daniel was anxious to see Casey, he decided to stop by the quarters of his father's wives first.  He had a few things to say to Salaeh.   
  
Entering the sunny courtyard, he was not surprised to see Rebekah sitting in a sheltered corner, her books of accounts and abacus spread around her on the bench.  He paused for a moment to watch her before she looked up and saw that he was standing there.   
  
"Son Daniel!" she said, placing her finger carefully on the page and smiling broadly at him.  "Aloise said that you had returned."   
  
"Yes, I arrived yesterday, Mother Rebekah."  It still felt strange to say her honorific, but Daniel pushed away any feelings he might have had for her.  She was his father's wife, heavily pregnant, and however attractive Daniel had once found her, it was not to be.   
  
"I also hear that congratulations are in order," she said as he moved her abacus and a heavy book off the bench and sat down beside her.  "You have begun your household."   
  
"Thank you.  You are looking well," he continued, casting a critical eye over her swollen abdomen.  "It will be a healthy child, I'm sure."   
  
She dimpled and rubbed her belly.  "If God be so willing," she said. "But the midwife is pleased with my progress, as is your father.  And Aloise is diligent about rubbing my feet when they pain me."  Rebekah glanced at him.  "She will grow to be a good wife to you, Daniel.  Her heart is kind and her intellect quick."   
  
"She is a good girl," agreed Daniel, unaccountably uncomfortable discussing Aloise with the woman he would have chosen for his wife, if the fates had allowed.  "I shall make a small sacrifice that you will have a rapid and easy delivery," he continued quietly.  "But I have come to speak with Salaeh.  Do you know where she is?"   
  
Rebekah frowned and snorted.  "*Her*?  I imagine she is supervising the slaves who are cleaning your father's bedroom, or telling someone how to do their job."  She suddenly grinned at Daniel.  "I am only safe from her because she cannot read or cipher, and she dislikes admitting that I can do something she cannot."   
  
Daniel nodded, sympathetic to Rebekah's predicament of being beholden to a woman such as Salaeh.  Not for the first time, Daniel wondered why his father did not divorce her and send her back to her family.   
  
He thanked her and went off in search of Salaeh, eventually tracking her down to her rooms where she had reduced one young slave to tears and was berating another.   
  
"Salaeh," Daniel said, walking in boldly and deliberately omitting the honorific, "I will speak with you now."  He dismissed the slaves with a wave of his hand, then dropped onto a low couch and propped his feet on a silken pillow.   
  
Salaeh flushed a deep red and glared at him, but she wisely kept silent.  Her beautiful face smoothed out and she drew herself up to her full height, then she glided over to a tray of wine and fruit, her hips swaying seductively, and carried it to the table in front of Daniel.   
  
"May I offer my Son Daniel refreshment?"  She did not kneel, but towered over Daniel on the couch.   
  
"No.  I have come to speak to you about Aloise.  Sit," he said, pointing to the pile of pillows on the floor at his feet.   
  
She blinked at his peremptory tone and reluctantly sat.  "And what of dear Aloise?"   
  
Daniel suddenly stood, looming over her.  "You have been frightening the child."  He held up his hand when Salaeh opened her mouth, "do not deny it.  I will not have it, and if I hear that you have been filling her head with such nonsense and terrors again, I shall go to my father and we will see who is divorcing whom."  With that, he turned and walked out of the room, followed by her sharp gasp.   
  
Daniel smiled.  It felt good to beard the lioness in her den and emerge unscathed.  But he was not a fool - he would watch Salaeh carefully and refuse any food or drink from her hands.   
  
He was still smiling when he walked into his quarters, ready to bathe and change before joining his father for dinner.   
  
"Master Daniel," El'yt said, looking surprised.  He was folding one of Daniel's best robes, made of silk and heavily embroidered. Casey looked on, his arms folded across his chest and his face blank.  Only his eyes flickered as Daniel entered the room.   
  
"How have the lessons been going, El'yt?" Daniel asked, pulling his shirt off over his head.  "Did you make yourself understood?"   
  
"We communicated fairly well, sir," he replied, but there was a caution in his voice that made Daniel pause and look at him.   
  
"Was there a problem?"   
  
El'yt placed the robe in a large, carved chest before answering.  "Not a problem, as such, Master Daniel."  He glanced at Casey, standing as still as a statue, and lowered his eyes.  "Casey appears to be... unfamiliar with certain basic household skills, and it may take him some time to gain the necessary expertise."   
  
"I see."  Daniel looked over at Casey.  "Can you be more specific?"   
  
"Well..."  El'yt's round face flushed.  "He has apparently never held a broom, or picked up clothing, or prepared food, or washed dishes, or-"   
  
Daniel held up his hand and nodded.  "I understand.  But I'm certain he will be able to master these skills within a short period of time."   
  
El'yt looked dubious.   
  
"Did Guord come for the silk I bought for my wife?"   
  
"Yes." El'yt's eyes darted to where Casey stood and back to Daniel.  He opened his mouth, and quickly shut it.   
  
"What is it, El'yt?" Daniel said softly.  "You know I value your opinions."   
  
"I'm sure it... is nothing, Master," he replied slowly.  "Guord was... not welcoming to Casey."   
  
Daniel laughed dryly.  "When has Guord ever welcomed a new slave?  Don't worry.  I expect things will work themselves out without my interference. In the meantime," he continued, turning toward the bedroom, "I require water to bathe and a fresh robe.  I shall take Casey with me this evening, so please instruct him on appropriate behavior."   
  
"Are you sure you wish to take him this evening, Master Daniel?"  El'yt had followed him to the door of the bedroom and stood there, fidgeting.   
  
"Yes, I just said so."  He glanced over his shoulder at El'yt.  "Is there a reason why I would be advised not to?"   
  
"Noooo..."  El'yt pursed his lips and took a deep breath.  "But he... he does that which is required, but so ill that he might as well not have done it at all."   
  
Daniel stripped off his trousers and turned to El'yt.  "You yourself said that he is completely unskilled in household practices.  I believe that with a modicum of patience, he will quickly learn that which is expected of him.  Now, I'd like my bath water and a robe."   
  
El'yt nodded and disappeared through the door.  Daniel heard him murmur and the door open and then close.  In a short time, he heard the door open again, and Casey appeared, carrying the heavy ewer over to the washstand, frowning in concentration.  He stumbled as he approached, sloshing water over the carpets and stand, and set down the ewer with a thump.  El'yt cried out, dashing forward to wipe up the spill as Casey stepped back, his shoulders hunched, as if waiting for a blow.   
  
"Leave it," Daniel ordered.   
  
"But Master-" Dabbing at the carpet on his hands and knees, El'yt looked at him, startled.   
  
"I said leave it," Daniel snapped.  "It was an accident and will dry quickly."   
  
"Of course, sir."  El'yt scrambled to his feet, looking more nervous than Daniel had ever seen him.   
  
"El'yt, you have done well.  I do not blame you for this mishap; it was unintentional, and isn't worth worrying about. You may attend to your other duties - I will be responsible for ensuring that Casey knows what to do tonight."   
  
"Thank you, Master Daniel."  Sounding relieved, El'yt bowed and dashed out of the room.   
  
Stifling a sigh, Daniel turned to Casey.  "Help me wash."   
  
With a nod, Casey poured the water into the washbasin and picked up a cloth.  He washed Daniel's face, arms and chest and then knelt before he spoke.   
  
"I'm sorry, Master."   
  
"I know."  Daniel reached down and tilted his chin up.  "I will not punish you for this, because it is all new to you.  But you must try to be careful, Casey," he warned.  "I *will* punish you the next time."   
  
Releasing Casey's chin, he spread his legs and closed his eyes as Casey ran the warm cloth over his legs, ass and groin.  Daniel's cock stirred at the attention, but when Casey leaned forward to kiss it, Daniel stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.   
  
"No.  I must hurry."   
  
Casey obediently helped Daniel into his robe and took up the brush, smoothing back Daniel's long hair and fastening it neatly at his neck with a thong.  When he had finished dressing, Daniel placed a hand at the back of Casey's neck.   
  
"Go where I tell you, and do what the other principal slaves do," he said, pulling Casey's head down enough to brush a quick kiss on his forehead.  "Do not embarrass me."   
  
"I will not embarrass you, Master."  Casey's voice was soft.   
  
"Good.  Now follow me."  Daniel released Casey and led the way back to his father's quarters, where half-a-dozen of the men in his family were gathered around a low table, along with his father and his three wives.   
  
Daniel bowed to the women, grinning at Rebekah, who was glowing and maternal in her pale blue silk robe.  He nodded coolly to Salaeh, dangerous and feline in orange tussah, and turned with a friendly smile to N'tale, his father's youngest and newest wife.  She looked shy and fragile, hiding behind her fall of black hair, but Daniel knew she possessed a fiery and independent spirit and admired her for it.   
  
After greeting his father and the other men, Daniel sat at the table, first catching Casey's eye and pointing to a small cushion to the right and slightly behind his place.  Casey looked at the other principal slaves kneeling behind their masters, and followed suit.  Dinner was served almost immediately, and Daniel ate heartily.  It seemed ages since his lunch, and he was starved.   
  
The principal slaves were served after their masters and they ate quickly and silently.   
  
Led by Yakob, the conversation touched on a variety of topics, and by the end of the meal, they had returned to the threat from the north.   
  
"There is nothing to fear," Daniel said to the women.  "Bourgoulla will make them regret their actions."   
  
"Daniel, do not patronize my wives," said Yakob.  "And do not minimize the danger from the north.  We must learn more before we can make any predictions."  Yakob turned to the women.  "We are sending watchers up to the Negil Cliffs, in case there is any movement to the east."   
  
Salaeh nodded.  "Excellent idea, my husband.  May I also suggest that I send a message to my brother, and ask him if he has any news to share?"   
  
"You are as intelligent as you are beautiful, my dear," Yakob said with a bow in her direction.  "You must send a message in the morning."   
  
She smiled demurely and lowered her gaze.  "I am always pleased to be of assistance, husband."   
  
The women excused themselves shortly afterward, and Daniel begged his father's indulgence and left soon after, Casey trailing along silently behind him.   
  
As soon as they entered Daniel's room, he turned to Casey.  "You did well tonight.  I am proud of you."   
  
Casey smiled and swayed forward a little, a look of such longing on his face that Daniel could not resist.  He wound his arms around Casey and kissed him hard, jerking back at Casey's muffled yelp.  
  
"What-"   
  
"My arm," Casey whispered, his face crumpled in pain, and Daniel berated himself as a fool.   
  
"Ah, I forgot," he said, leaning forward to brush his lips over Casey's.  "Come with me and I will put on more medicine.  That will ease the pain."   
  
After he seated Casey on the bed and unwound the bandages, Daniel carefully examined Casey's wound.  The brand was still red and raw, but there was no sign of infection. It was a simple matter for Daniel to spread more salve over the wound and bind it with a clean cloth.  By the time he was finished, however, Casey looked pale and shaky.  Daniel quickly prepared them both for bed and settled Casey on his side, then wrapped an arm around his ribs and pulled him close.  He nuzzled the back of Casey's neck, and placed a hand on Casey's hip, stilling him, when he began to rub his ass against Daniel's groin.   
  
"Master?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"You... in me, now?"   
  
With a sigh of regret, Daniel kissed the back of Casey's neck and replied, "No."   
  
"Are you... angry?"  The words were barely a whisper.   
  
"No, I'm not angry," he said, "but it is time to rest.  We are both tired."   
  
There was a long pause, and Daniel began to drift off to sleep.   
  
"Master?"   
  
"Yes, Casey?"   
  
"Tomorrow?"   
  
"What about tomorrow?"   
  
"You... in me?"   
  
Daniel pulled Casey's ass back firmly against his hard cock.  "Oh, yes.  Tomorrow.  Now sleep."   
  
"Yes, Master." 


	17. Chapter 17

Daniel yawned and stretched, reaching out to discover a warm spot on the bed, but no Casey.  He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around.  It was early light, and he could hear the far-off stirrings in the stables and kitchens, ringing clear on the crisp morning air.   
  
"Casey?"  There was no reply, and he sat up, calling louder.  "Casey?"   
  
Soft noises came from the outer door that led to the privy, and Casey shambled in, rubbing his face with his hands.   
  
Daniel smiled.  Casey looked rumpled and sleep-creased, his hair in a tangle over his shoulders, his eyes still half-closed.  He blinked when he saw Daniel sitting on the bed and looked so endearingly idiotic that Daniel's smile grew into a laugh.   
  
"I... pee," mumbled Casey, gesturing toward the privy door as he flopped onto his back on the bed and closed his eyes, his hand blindly dragging the blankets over him.   
  
Succumbing to the power of suggestion, Daniel made his way to the privy.  When he returned, he rounded the bed to Casey's side, and leaned over the sleeping man.  Barely breathing and with a touch so light it was almost imperceptible, he traced the strong forehead and straight nose, dipped down to the parted lips, and over the square jaw and dimpled chin.  Daniel's breaths deepened and his flesh warmed as he moved his hands down Casey's long neck to his chest, and, pushing the blanket to one side, down to his navel and the soft skin of his belly.  Casey stirred and murmured briefly, his genitals lax, his legs spreading wider as Daniel uncovered him slowly.   
  
A bolt of urgent need tore through Daniel's gut at the sight of this man, warm and pliant in sleep.  He carefully straddled Casey's chest, groaning softly as his heavy cock bobbed and shifted with his movements.  Leaning forward, he licked the tip of Casey's cock, gently coaxing it to fullness.  Casey muttered and squirmed beneath him, his legs flexing as Daniel continued to lick and mouth his growing cock.  Daniel moved his hand down to carefully roll and squeeze Casey's balls, gently tugging them down as they began to draw up.   
  
"Ahhh, Master..." he breathed, his hands sliding up the backs of Daniel's thighs to rest on Daniel's ass, kneading and caressing his cheeks.  When Casey's fingers moved down to stroke Daniel's rigid cock, Daniel groaned deeply and scooted back a couple of inches, angling his hips so that his cock moved closer to Casey's mouth.   
  
"Kiss me," he rasped, and then he fitted his lips around the top of Casey's cock and sucked hard.   
  
Casey's cry of pleasure encouraged his efforts, and he gradually took in more of Casey's length.  Daniel closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath when Casey's tongue trailed down the side of his cock and over the head.  His thigh muscles bunched and quivered, and he spread his legs wider, wanting, needing more.  The cock in his mouth jerked and throbbed as he moved his fingers down to Casey's hole, circling the flexing muscles.  He pulled his head back, releasing Casey's cock and quickly sucked on one of his fingers, then pushed it deeply into Casey's ass.   
  
The body beneath him writhed, grinding down onto his finger.  Casey's voice rose into a thin wail as Daniel thrust his finger in deeper and twisted it, then pushed it in and out quickly.  Casey's back arched and his legs and arms moved restlessly over the blankets as Daniel continued to shove his finger into Casey's ass.   
  
"More, more..." Casey pleaded, raising his knees.   
  
Roughly pulled out his finger, Daniel scrambled around on the bed until he was between Casey's thighs.  He clasped Casey's slick cock and pumped once, then moved his wet hand to his own cock, rapidly coating it.  Casey raised his legs and clasped his hands tightly behind his knees, lifting his ass invitingly.  With a growl, Daniel grabbed Casey's thighs and raised his ass even higher, then shoved part of the thick blanket beneath Casey's hips.   
  
"Hurry," Casey whispered, shifting his hips, his chest heaving. His cock was drooling onto his belly, his balls were huddled close to his body, and he was a hair's breadth from orgasming.   
  
Daniel took a deep breath and placed his cock firmly against Casey's hole.  But instead of shoving it in as he was tempted to do, he reached out and gently tugged on Casey's balls, bringing him back from the brink.  Casey winced and made a disappointed noise in the back of his throat.   
  
"You will come when *I* say so," Daniel ground out, "because it pleases me to see you come."  He wrapped a finger around Casey's scrotum, holding his balls down and away from his body.  "This is not for your pleasure, but *mine*."   
  
Without warning, he jerked his hips forward and buried himself deep in Casey's ass, reveling in the way Casey's cock swayed and twitched, in his breathy moans, in the glorious tightness of his hole.  Daniel began a slow thrust and withdrawal, deepening his strokes until his own balls slapped against Casey's ass and his cock was buried to the hilt.   
  
He could feel the tension building in his gut, the sweat breaking out on the backs of his thighs, the warmth coiling at the base of his spine.  His thrusts grew faster and he plowed into Casey's quivering flesh over and over.   
  
Finally he released Casey's balls and grabbed his cock, pumping it roughly.   
  
"Come, *now*," he ordered, and Casey jerked back his head and arched his back and came with a wail, fountaining over Daniel's hand.   
  
Daniel's vision dimmed as he managed to plow into Casey a little deeper and then climaxed, his cock massaged by Casey's spasming ass.  He held himself upright as he filled Casey's hole, then sank back down on his haunches, slumped over, breathing as if he had run a race.   
  
After a few moments, Daniel winced as his muscles stiffened, and pulled his cock out of Casey.  Casey whimpered and flinched, his hole flexing as a thin trail of Daniel's come dribbled out.  The sight caused Daniel's exhausted cock to stir, but he helped Casey to lower his legs and then to rise and walk to the washstand on shaky legs.  He had Casey lean over, his elbows resting on the stand, and spread his legs as Daniel examined his ass, smearing the come that slid out over his cheeks and down the backs of his thighs.   
  
"Thank you, Master," Casey finally whispered as Daniel began to wipe him off.  The cold water caused goosebumps over Casey's flesh, and when Daniel had him turn around and washed his cock, Casey jumped and blushed as his cock shrank and his balls hid in his pubic hair.   
  
Daniel then coaxed him back into the rumpled bed, where they dozed fitfully until El'yt entered, bringing with him the slaves carrying hot water.   
  
Rising and splashing his face, Daniel turned to El'yt.  "I will breakfast with Dauid this morning, because I must travel to the outer fields today with my cousins and I will not be back until late.  Casey will continue his training with you today, and you will report his progress to me on my return."  Daniel then glanced at Casey.  "Learn from El'yt, and make me proud.  I will expect to hear that you have performed your duties well when I return tonight."   
  
Casey frowned and lowered his eyes, then nodded once.  He hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink within himself.  Daniel paused, his hand itching to reach out to Casey, but instead he took the clothing that El'yt held out to him, quickly donning his trousers and shirt, and sitting while El'yt helped him slip on his boots.   
  
Without another word, Daniel left his rooms and walked to Dauid's quarters, where he breakfasted with Dauid, Guill and Kris.  Afterward, they collected their horses and rode out along the low cliffs to the distant fields.   
  
It was a busy and tiring day, but Daniel could not shake a feeling of unease that dogged him.  Casey had seemed unhappy at being left behind, and Daniel impulsively decided that he would take Casey out with him tomorrow.  He was pleased at the thought, both as a special treat for Casey, and because they would be together for an entire day...  Enticing images of kissing Casey in the long grass beside the stream, or of sliding into his hot hole as they rested beneath a tree burnt themselves into Daniel's brain.  His cousin's noticed his distraction and he eventually had to tear his thoughts away from Casey and pay attention to the tasks at hand.   
  
The sky was turning dark by the time they had returned, and Daniel was dusty and tired, ready to bathe and eat.  He would not mention his treat for Casey until they were in bed together, exhausted and sticky from their latest coupling.   
  
Daniel stepped into his rooms, expecting to be greeted with light and food and warm water.  Instead, the rooms were dark and empty.  He wandered into his bedroom and almost tripped over a broom lying on the floor near the washbasin, which was shattered into a thousand pieces.   
  
He was almost out the door when El'yt bustled up, holding a lamp and a new basin, followed by Casey, carrying the ewer.   
  
"Master Daniel!"  El'yt started and almost dropped the basin, clutching it to his chest just in time.   
  
"What has happened, El'yt?"  Daniel glanced at Casey, but his face was lowered, and Daniel could not read his expression.   
  
El'yt took a deep breath and placed the lamp on the table, then carried the washbasin into the bedroom.  Casey silently shadowed him.  "We have had several... mishaps, sir," he said, returning to the receiving room.  "If I may, I will just sweep up-"   
  
"Let Casey do that," said Daniel, sitting down and tugging off his boots.  "I wish to know about Casey's training."   
  
"Well, sir," El'yt began, his hands moving nervously, "it hasn't been an entirely successful day."   
  
Casey appeared in the bedroom doorway, and Daniel glanced at him.  "Sweep up the pot and then come here," he said.  Casey disappeared and they could hear the brush of the broom and the soft clink of pottery.   
  
"Explain yourself."   
  
"Casey is... it's hard to say exactly what the problem is, Master Daniel, but he managed to break four pots and ruin one of your robes today."   
  
Daniel took a deep breath.  "Could these have been accidents?"   
  
"Ah... it's... unlikely that *all* of them were accidents, sir."   
  
"El'yt," Daniel began.  He could see Casey standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye, but ignored him.  "You are implying that Casey deliberately caused damage to my possessions, is that correct?"   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"I see.  Thank you.  Have my dinner brought to me immediately."  Daniel looked up at Casey, faintly surprised to see his face pink with embarrassment.  "Did you mean to break those pots and ruin my robe?"   
  
"No, Master," Casey whispered, his hands moving nervously among the folds of his robe.   
  
"I shall punish you for not taking more care, Casey.  If I thought you were doing these things deliberately, however, your punishment would be a great deal harsher.  Do you understand?"   
  
Casey nodded, looking miserable, and he slowly approached Daniel when he was beckoned.   
  
"Take off your robe," Daniel said, sitting up and arranging pillows around himself.  Casey stripped off his robe, dropping it to the floor.  "No," Daniel said, shaking his head.  "Pick up your robe and fold it."   
  
Casey swallowed hard and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, shivering a little.  The robe remained on the floor.   
  
"Pick up your robe."   
  
Hooking the material with his foot, Casey kicked it onto the top of the small chest that contained his clothing.  He looked at Daniel out of the corner of his eye, as if to gauge his reaction.   
  
"That insolence will increase your punishment.  Come here." Daniel held out his hand.   
  
Casey shook his head once, a quick jerk that startled Daniel.   
  
"I said *come here*."   
  
"No."  Lifting his chin, Casey took a step backward.   
  
Daniel took a deep breath.  He must not lose his temper when punishing a slave, even if the temptation was great.  "Casey, if you do not come here this moment, you will be bound and punished publicly, and will spend the next month in the slave quarters.  Do you want that?"   
  
Casey blinked at him, then shook his head.  "No."   
  
"Then I will tell you one last time.  Come here."   
  
Casey took a reluctant step forward, then another, until he stood before Daniel.  He suddenly fell to his knees, spreading his legs and leaning forward, his hands sliding up Daniel's thighs.  Daniel grabbed Casey's hands before they reached his groin, and Casey licked his lips, bending down.   
  
"Stop it!" Daniel said, jerking Casey's wrists up so that his torso and head had to follow.  Casey's eyes narrowed and flickered over Daniel's face. He did not try to break free, instead pushing closer to Daniel's groin, his intentions clear.   
  
Feeling more than a bit desperate, Daniel tugged him down until Casey was stretched out over his lap, Casey's legs and head supported by the pillows.  Placing a small pillow between Casey's knees so that he could not close his legs, Daniel then pulled Casey's hands to the small of his back and held them there by the wrists.   
  
"You disappointed me," said Daniel, rubbing his free hand over Casey's tense ass, "and you embarrassed me."  He suddenly drew his hand back and smacked it down sharply on Casey's cheek.  With a yelp, Casey jumped and wriggled his hips.  "No," said Daniel, holding Casey's hip still.  "Do not move.  That will make it worse, and I will have to use your bindings to hold you still.  Do you want that?"   
  
Casey shook his head rapidly, his hands twisting in Daniel's grasp.  Daniel patted Casey's ass once, then let loose with a flurry of smacks, spreading the blows evenly over Casey's reddening skin.  Casey groaned as the assault continued.  When the door opened and a slave appeared with his dinner, Daniel merely slowed the pace of his hits, nodding to the slave to place the tray on the table.  Casey turned his head away, hiding his face in the pillow until the slave left.  He began to sob, his shoulders shaking, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.  Daniel landed two more smacks on Casey's fiery ass, then stopped.   
  
"You may put your arms down, but do not move otherwise," he said, releasing Casey's wrists and reaching over Casey to pour himself a glass of wine and to grab a plate of food and a piece of bread.  He balanced the plate on Casey, using his ass as a table, and he slowly ate his fill.  Casey's sobs gradually died, and he sniffled occasionally, rubbing his face with his hands.  When Daniel was finished, he put the plate back on the tray.   
  
"Give me your hands again."   
  
Casey's back stiffened and he shook his head once.  "No."   
  
"I said, give me your hands, Casey."  With a sob, Casey moved his hands to the small of his back, fingers curled into fists.  Daniel clasped them again, holding them high on Casey's back as he rubbed Casey's burning ass.  "I was going to take you with me tomorrow, Casey.  But you do not deserve such consideration."   
  
"I'm sorry, Master." Casey said in a tiny voice, shivering under Daniel's touch.  "Sorry, sorry, sorry."  Daniel could feel Casey's cock stir against his thigh.   
  
"I'm sure you are," Daniel replied, "as you should be."  He smacked Casey's ass lightly, making Casey jump again, then began a series of slow, deliberate blows, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make Casey start to sob almost immediately.  After a few minutes he stopped and released Casey's wrists.   
  
"Get up and lie down on your pallet," Daniel ordered.   
  
"On the bed?" asked Casey as he struggled to stand on shaky legs.   
  
"No.  You will sleep alone tonight."   
  
His hand hovering over his bright-red ass, Casey wiped his eyes and glared at Daniel, then silently stalked into the bedroom.  Daniel followed, carrying a chunk of bread, some fruit, and a cup of water.  He placed them beside Casey, who was stretched out on his stomach on his pallet in the corner, his red ass almost luminescent in the dimness.   
  
"You may eat when you're hungry and pee if you need to," Daniel said.  "But otherwise you will stay here until I tell you that you can get up."  He turned to leave.   
  
"Master?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"May I have some medicine?" Casey's voice was hopeful.   
  
"No, not when you're being punished.  The pain will help you remember to do a better job next time."  Daniel returned to his receiving room, where he spent the remainder of the evening pretending to read, but instead thinking about how good Casey felt stretched out over his lap, squirming gently.  His own cock stirred, but he willed it down.   
  
When he finally undressed and slipped into his own bed, he could hear Casey tossing and turning in the corner.  Once Daniel was settled, he could hear Casey sigh, and once or twice he thought he heard soft mutterings, but he could not make out the words.  He was tempted, oh so tempted, to call Casey to his bed, but he dismissed that impulse with difficulty, and finally fell asleep. 


	18. Chapter 18

Daniel turned over, groaning.  He reached out blindly and his groan rose into a question. Then he remembered why he was sleeping alone.   
  
He sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily.  He felt as if he'd slept for a century and yet not nearly long enough.  Scooting to the end of the bed, he peered at the pallet in the corner, the fact that it was empty only registering after he stared at it for several heartbeats.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
He waited.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
Torn between concern and anger, Daniel slipped out of bed, pulled on his robe, and padded out the door to the privy.  If Casey wasn't there, he would have to spend valuable time searching for-   
  
Casey.   
  
He was standing just beyond the privy, where there was a clear view of the distant cliffs, whose edges were touched by the rising sun.  He was facing the cliffs, a blanket wrapped around him.   
  
"Casey, you were told-"   
  
"I know what I was told."  His voice was flat.  "I had to think."   
  
"You had to think?"  Daniel said blankly as he took a step forward, his anger dissolving into confusion and curiosity.   
  
"Yes.  I had to think."   
  
"But you're my *slave*.  What could you have to think about?"   
  
"What could I-" Casey's head fell forward and his shoulders shook.  "Oh, you have no idea..." he said, his voice suddenly thick.   
  
Daniel was startled.  So many words coming so easily from a man still struggling to learn their language...  But the thought fled as he faced him.  Casey was laughing, his chest heaving in great breathless whoops, his eyes watering.  As Daniel watched, he slowly bent over, making horrible, raw noises in the back of his throat. Daniel caught his shoulders, pulling him close and holding him tight.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
For a moment he leaned heavily against Daniel, his damp face pressed against Daniel's throat, his body jerking as he tried to fill his lungs.  Then he stepped away, his breathing evening out, and lifted his eyes.   
  
His lashes were wet, his eyes dark and so full of pain that Daniel automatically reached out to him.   
  
Shaking his head, Casey took a step back.  "You have no idea," he repeated softly.   
  
Daniel rubbed his hand over his face, wondering vaguely in the back of his mind why this conversation was suddenly so important to him.  "You needed to think?"   
  
Casey nodded.   
  
"But why disobey me?  Why come out here when you can think inside?"   
  
"Because I *can't* think inside."  Casey turned back toward the cliffs, but he appeared to be staring at the ground.   
  
"You can't...  Why can't you think inside?"  Daniel wasn't sure when he'd heard anything so peculiar.   
  
With a sigh, Casey shrugged.  "You're there."   
  
"I'm there?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"You can't think inside because I'm there?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Daniel paused and blinked slowly, Casey's words echoing in his mind.  "Can you explain why my being in a room stops you from thinking?"   
  
With a soft bark of laughter, Casey shrugged again.  "When you're in the room, *all* I can think about is wanting you, needing you inside me."  He shivered.  "And this morning I needed to think about other things."   
  
Daniel smiled, flattered and suddenly very aware of how much he wanted to be inside Casey.  He rested a hand on Casey's shoulder.  "I think about how much I want to be inside you, too," he said softly.  "What other things did you need to think about?"   
  
Casey shrugged and shook his head, mute.   
  
"Come inside," Daniel urged, pulling gently on his shoulder.   
  
Casey turned, hugging the blanket tighter.  "How will you punish me?" he whispered.   
  
"I haven't decided yet," replied Daniel, steering him inside.  "First, I want to examine you."  He could feel Casey quiver and Daniel's cock, already half-hard, jerked and bobbed heavily.  Pulling the blanket off of Casey's shoulders, he pointed to the bed.  "Lie down on your stomach."   
  
Casey's breath hitched as he crawled onto the bed and stretched out, and Daniel caught of glimpse of his stiff cock before it was buried in the blankets.  Smiling to himself, Daniel pulled his legs apart and knelt between them.  He leaned forward and carefully examined his ass, still pink and warm from the evening before.  There were no dark bruises or injuries to worry about, and Daniel took a deep breath.  Good.   
  
"I know how difficult this is for you," he murmured, running one hand up Casey's thigh and reaching for the jar of salve with the other.  "A new language, a new home, new duties and customs..."  He gently caressed Casey's ass, enjoying the way he shivered and hissed at his touch.  Spreading his fingers, he parted Casey's cheeks, exposing his hole.  Scooping up some salve with his finger, Daniel circled the twitching muscle.   
  
"Please..." Casey moaned, shifting his hips, his flexing hole trying to capture Daniel's teasing finger.   
  
Mindful of his father's maxim, "An unexpected kindness is repaid a thousandfold," Daniel slid his finger deep inside Casey's ass.   
  
"Oh!" he cried, rising onto his elbows, flinging his head back, his heavy sun-bleached hair spilling down his back.  "Another..." he panted.  "More!"   
  
Slipping another finger into Casey's tight heat, Daniel pumped them slowly.  He own cock was drooling and throbbing.  They were both close - too close to wait much longer.  Pushing his fingers into Casey's quivering hole as far as they would go, his top knuckles pressing into the stretched muscle, Daniel stopped.   
  
"Don't fight me," he gritted out.  "I will always treat you well, I will always give you *this*," and he twisted his fingers, rubbing the muscle hard.  "But you must remember that you are *mine* to do with as I please."   
  
His entire body tensing, Casey cried out as Daniel continued to twist his hand.  "No..." he breathed.   
  
"*Yes*," said Daniel, twisting and withdrawing his fingers in one motion.  Casey yelped with surprise, his arms collapsing, when Daniel jerked his robe over his head and plunged into him without warning.  "Yes, yes," he repeated as he thrust, rasping out the words faster and faster as he pounded into him.   
  
Casey shuddered and shook beneath him, grunting with each stroke. Daniel slid his hands down Casey's arms, twining their fingers together and continuing to whisper his litany into his ear.   
  
Vision dimming, Daniel groaned and pressed his cock into Casey as far as he could. He could feel his orgasm release, flooding out to fill him.  The hips beneath his suddenly jerked and quivered and Casey wailed into the blankets as he came.   
  
Daniel gasped for breath as he lay on Casey's damp back, mindful that he would have to move soon.   
  
"You *are* mine," he hissed.   
  
"No." Casey's denial was muffled by the blankets.   
  
"Yes, you are," he said, grinding his hips, sinking his still-hard cock further into him.   
  
Casey stirred beneath him, and Daniel knew he should move, but he had to hear the word first.   
  
"Say it," he growled, pinning Casey to the bed.   
  
"No."  His voice caught in what sounded suspiciously like a sob.   
  
"*Say* it," Daniel insisted, spreading his knees, forcing Casey's thighs further apart.   
  
"No..."   
  
"I *bought* you, I *paid* for you, I *marked* you.  *Say* it!"  His fingers tightened on Casey's.   
  
"I..."  Casey's voice broke.  "No..."   
  
Daniel moved his hips in a tight circle, pressing the sides of his cock against his muscle and Casey gasped through his sobs.  "Say it, Casey."   
  
"I... am yours," he whispered, his body shaking beneath Daniel.   
  
"*Mine*," Daniel agreed, kissing the back of Casey's neck.  "Mine..." 


	19. Chapter 19

Daniel graciously inclined his head and accepted the bread and cheese handed him by the field owner and his wife.  He leaned against the sun-baked stone, which radiated a welcome warmth against his aching back, and bit into the crusty bread, still hot from the oven.  It was yeasty and light, a fine contrast to the rich, slightly sour cheese.   
  
"Please convey our respects to your father," the man continued his speech of greeting, pouring Daniel a cup of thin, bitter wine.  "And thank him for considering our requests."   
  
"Of course.  My father wishes to assist all his family as he deems best."  Daniel accepted the wine and tried not to bolt his simple meal.  He was ravenous, having stayed in bed with Casey so long that morning that he had skipped breakfast in order to make the ride to the southern fields.  He smiled to himself, remembering Casey's sweet words of surrender.  He had been right - Casey was ripe for submission, only requiring his final urging to yield so deliciously.  Of course, he thought, it may take a little longer for the last vestiges of rebellion to disappear, but Daniel el-Rydal had no doubts that they would disappear sooner, rather than later.   
  
He could still hear Casey's voice, rough with passion.  "I am yours," he had said, and Daniel's gut tightened at the memory.  Those words...   
  
Words...   
  
Far too many words.   
  
Hadn't he thought that at some point?  He cast his mind back, searching for a thought that danced on the edge of his memory.  Yes.  This morning.  When he had spoken with Casey outside his rooms, still groggy from sleep.  Casey had been speaking easily, with a fluency that had startled him briefly, and then he had gotten distracted...   
  
"Cousin Daniel?"   
  
"Yes?" he said, jerking his thoughts back to the present.   
  
"More bread?"   
  
"Thank you."  As he chewed, Daniel listened with one ear to the farmer's litany of complaints and excuses, nodding at appropriate moments.  The question of Casey's mastery of their language was more compelling, however.  Surely no one could learn a language that quickly - Casey must have been reasonably fluent when he was bought...  But why lie and pretend to be ignorant?   
  
A chill began inside him - a tiny pinprick of cold beneath his ribs.  There was a possible explanation.  Betrayal was an ugly word, but not as ugly as the punishment meted out to traitors.   
  
And yet there was no evidence that Casey was considering betraying them to anyone.  He was obviously from the north, and their family had nothing to do with the border clashes.  Setting watchers was prudent, but their lands were too far to the east to be of any strategic use for either side.  And Casey could hardly be an agent of the King...  With a dry chuckle that greatly offended the farmer, Daniel chided himself for his ludicrous suspicions.   
  
Still, that did not answer the question.  When he returned, he would ask Casey questions about his day, and listen carefully to the answers.  If Casey was playing a game with him...  Daniel tossed back the rest of his wine and rose abruptly, causing the farmer and his wife to scramble after him.  If Casey was playing a game, then he'd live to regret it.   
  
"Cousin Daniel?"   
  
"Yes?  What is it?"   
  
"You wish to see my fields?" the farmer whispered and waved his hand tentatively toward the green expanse to his left.   
  
"Ah, yes, of course."  Daniel smiled to take away the sting of his earlier abrupt tone and the farmer and his wife relaxed a fraction.  "You have done wonders here, Azeez," he continued, following the man across the irrigation ditch and into the field.  Stifling a sigh, he turned his attention to a spirited description of Azeez's battle with the encroaching scrub and sand.   
  
The sun was approaching the distant hills when Daniel finally mounted Zeina and turned her toward home.  He was dusty and tired, yet pleased to find that the farmers in the south were doing well, despite the lack of rain these past winter months.  His father would expect a report when he returned, and then he would bathe and change and take dinner with Aloise.   
  
And he would talk to Casey.   
  
Casey.  Shifting on the saddle to ease the pressure on his interested groin, Daniel urged Zeina into a gallop. She tossed her head and streaked across the ground, eating up the distance back to the compound and Casey.   
  
The sky was still streaked with garish swathes of pink and orange when Daniel left Zeina in the hands of the stable boys and strode to his father's rooms to tender his report.  It did not take long; Yakob was pleased, as Daniel had expected, and waved him away after only a few questions.   
  
He quickly walked to his room and pushed open the door.  Ah, now this was more like it.   
  
The lamps were lit and his rooms were tidy. Casey entered from the bedroom, his arms full of pillows.   
  
"Master," he said quietly, lowering his eyes and carefully arranging the pillows on the floor beside the table.   
  
Daniel did not speak, but reached out and clasped his arm, pulling him in for a brief kiss.  "I have missed you," his murmured into Casey's ear, brushing his lips over a heavy lock of hair that had escaped its bond.   
  
"Oh, yes," Casey replied, nodding, his hands slowly moving up Daniel's arms, his fingers plucking gently on the dusty sleeves.  "You need bathing water?" he asked softly.   
  
"Yes.  I will take dinner with my wife tonight."  He stepped back, feeling the distance between them grow, a chill creeping along his flesh.  "You must wash and change as well, for you will accompany me."   
  
"Me?"   
  
"Yes."  Daniel started toward the bedroom, stripping off his shirt as he went.  "Our two households must work together, and this is a good time to begin."   
  
"Yes, Master."  Casey disappeared out the door and Daniel finished tugging off his clothing.  In a few minutes Casey returned with an ewer of warm water, and, with Casey's help, Daniel quickly rinsed off the dust and sweat from his travels.   
  
"Find my red thobe," he said as he toweled off, "and then wash yourself and put on something clean."  Daniel brushed and tied back his hair as Casey pulled his robe over his head and began to wash.  "What did you do today?" Daniel continued, sitting on the side of the bed to tie on his sandals, and to gain a better view of Casey as he washed.   
  
"El'yt taught me to clean," Casey said, leaning over to wipe his legs and angling his ass toward Daniel.  He spread his legs and slowly ran the cloth up the inside of his thighs.   
  
Daniel swallowed hard and tore his eyes from the dark crease in Casey's ass, only to encounter his smiling eyes as Casey glanced over his shoulder.   
  
"And what else did you learn?" he said, finishing with his sandals and standing abruptly.   
  
"Where your clothes is... are," he corrected himself, bending over further, "and where to go for water and food."  Casey's hand snaked between his legs and the cloth slid up between his ass cheeks, spreading them slightly.   
  
Taking three stiff, jerky steps forward, Daniel pressed his left hand over Casey's, grasping it tightly so that he couldn't pull away.  With his hand trapped against his ass, Casey tried to straighten up, but could not.  Daniel's right hand grasped Casey's hip, holding him steady in his awkward position.  
  
"Master?"   
  
Daniel did not answer.  His fingers rubbed the wet cloth caught against Casey's ass, teasing it against Casey's hole.   
  
Casey gasped and his legs trembled.  He let his head fall forward and tried to pull his hand away, but Daniel held him fast.  Casey's right hand searched for an anchor - failing to find one, he reached up and held on to Daniel's hand, grasping his hip, keeping him upright.   
  
"Please..." he whispered, spreading his legs wider.   
  
"First," Daniel said hoarsely, both hands pressing harder, holding Casey immobile, "tell me how you can speak our language so well."   
  
"What?" Casey sounded confused.  "I don't understand..."   
  
"Ah, but you do."  Still gripping Casey's hand, he rubbed a fingertip against the cloth covering Casey's hole, poking a little inside.  Casey shivered. "You understand far more than you let on.  Yesterday you could only say a few words, yet today you speak well, in complete sentences."  He poked his finger in further, scraping the rough cloth over the tender flesh.   
  
"Master!" Casey cried out, then panted as Daniel pushed the cloth in deeper.   
  
"Why is this?" Daniel asked harshly, wiggling his finger a little, avidly watching Casey squirm.  "Were you lying to me?  Did you already know how to speak our language?"   
  
"I am..." Casey gasped, gooseflesh marching over his ass as Daniel continued his torment, "I learn quickly.  I speak many languages.  They are... easy for me."   
  
Daniel remembered what el-Yafe had said, that Casey could speak at least four of the northern tongues.  And yet...  "Are you trying to tell me that you have learned to speak so well in a couple of days?"   
  
"No..." Casey's voice was thick, congested.  "The soldiers... I learned some from them... and the slave sellers."   
  
"So you deceived me?" Daniel said angrily and pushed his finger in deeper.  "You could understand our language, and yet you pretended not to.  You lied to *me*, your Master, the man who bought you."   
  
Casey did not answer.  Only the sound of his labored breaths disturbed the silence.   
  
"Why did you do it?  Why did you try to deceive me?"   
  
"I..." Casey grunted as Daniel pulled his hand higher, forcing him to bend further.  "You don't understand..." he ground out.   
  
"What don't I understand?" He gripped Casey's fingers tightly and pulled.   
  
Casey yelped and barked a word Daniel did not understand.   
  
"What don't I understand?" Daniel repeated.   
  
"I... I didn't know you," Casey said harshly, his legs shaking.  "I was sick and hungry.  I thought you would be more patient if I was stupid..."   
  
Daniel paused.  Casey's explanation sounded plausible, especially given el-Yafe's information.  It would do for now, at least.   
  
"I believe you."  Daniel leaned over and dropped a kiss on one cheek before pulling out his finger, releasing Casey's hand and helping him to slowly stand.  Casey's face was scarlet and his thick hair fanned out over his shoulders. He blinked several times and ran a hand over his damp eyes.  "I should punish you for your deception, but I will forgive you this time.  Now," said Daniel, handing Casey a towel, "get dressed.  My wife is expecting me, and I do not wish to make her wait."   
  
She was sitting on a cushion at the low table, her tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated.  Daniel paused in the doorway, a half-smile on his lips, as he watched her oh-so-carefully inscribe the curves and swooping lines of her name on a piece of parchment.  Behind him, Casey murmured "so young," but before he could answer, Aloise set down her pen and stretched, her eyes lighting on him.   
  
"Husband!" She scrambled to her feet and launched herself across the room, then suddenly stopped short as she noticed Casey.  "I was expecting you," she said to Daniel, approaching him at a more dignified pace and angling her cheek for a brief kiss.   
  
Daniel chucked her under the chin and stepped inside, motioning Casey to follow.  "I brought my principal slave along, my dear, so that you would know him.  I think it would be useful if our households worked together."   
  
Aloise nodded, her eyes fixed on Daniel's face.  "You are very wise, my husband.  What is your slave's name?"   
  
"Casey."   
  
She frowned and shook her head a little.  "Kehseh?"   
  
"Almost, my wife."  Daniel enunciated clearly.  "Kay. See.  Casey."   
  
"Kehsey."  Turning doubtful eyes to Daniel, she repeated it.  "Kehsey."   
  
"Very good!"  Daniel turned to Casey, who was staring at him, horrified.  "Greet your Mistress Aloise, Casey."  Turning his face a little further, he added quickly, "Face her and speak slowly.  And do not look at her as if she is an object of your pity!"   
  
Casey nodded and schooled his expression into well-bred interest.  He moved so that Aloise could see his face and bowed from the waist, murmuring "Mistress Aloise."   
  
"Kehsey," she said politely, then looked up at Daniel.  "I have been practicing my writing.  Would you like to see?"   
  
"Of course!"  Daniel followed her to the table, motioning to Casey to accompany him.  A motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention.  "Ah, Guord.  We will dine soon, and I wish for you and Casey to attend us."   
  
"Yes, Master Daniel," he said, bowing, then disappeared.   
  
Aloise had spread out her efforts on the table and was looking at Daniel uncertainly.   
  
"They are not very good," she said shyly, straightening one with her fingertip.  "I make so many mistakes."   
  
Daniel squatted down and picked up the parchment she had been working on when they arrived.  "You have done very well," he said, holding it up.  "'Aloise,'" he read.  "It's beautifully rendered, my dear.  I am very proud of you."   
  
Her face lit up and she pointed to another piece.  "I wrote your name, as well."   
  
Daniel handed the parchment to Casey and picked up the one Aloise was pointing to.  It was painstakingly worked, each letter carefully drawn, with all the connectors slightly crooked, but there.  Several rough spots on the parchment were evidence of mistakes scraped off with the tip of her knife.  "'Daniel,'" he read, a wave of tenderness flowing through him for this child, his wife.   
  
He stood and turned to Casey, reaching for the parchment he held.  His hand stopped in mid-air.   
  
Casey was studying the word intently, his finger tracing the air above it.  He whispered "Aloise" as he drew the letters, his face alive with wonder and excitement and more than a hint of sadness.   
  
"Casey?"   
  
Casey raised his eyes, his brows drawing together.  "This is writing?" he asked softly, his finger still moving over the letters.   
  
"Yes, of course."  Affronted, Daniel reached for the parchment.   
  
"Did I..." Aloise's soft, flat voice broke in.  "Did I do it wrong?"   
  
"No," said Daniel, turning to her.  "You did beautifully.  Casey is from the north, and he is not familiar with our writing."   
  
"You write differently in the north?" she asked Casey.   
  
"Yes, Mistress Aloise," he said, his eyes devouring the parchments on the table.   
  
"Husband, I would like..." Her face grew pink.  "I would like to see such different writing, if you approve."   
  
Startled by the change in Casey, Daniel nodded.  "I, too, am curious."  He motioned Casey to the table. "Sit down.  Aloise, please give him your pen and ink, and a scrap of paper."   
  
Beaming excitedly, she shoved the pen and ink across the table to where Casey sat, and handed him a large sheet of reed paper, half-covered with her practice strokes.  "Write my name, Aloise," she instructed, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands.   
  
Casey glanced at Daniel as he took up the pen and dipped it in the bowl of ink.  "Aloise," he said, then he named each letter as he drew it.  "A - l - o - i - s - e."   
  
She looked at the word and laughed.  "How funny!  You write it backwards."   
  
"Backwards?"   
  
"Yes," she said.  "You should start here," she pointed to the right side, "and move this way." Her hand moved to the left. "And it's all like little stick figures dancing in a row.  Not elegant and smooth like our writing."   
  
"I can-" began Casey hotly, snapping his mouth shut with a sharp glance at Daniel.  He dipped his pen in the ink again and wrote again, this time connecting the letters into one flowing line.   
  
"That is more like ours," said Aloise, with a smile, "even though it is still backwards.  But there are so many bumps.  Why?"   
  
Casey looked at Daniel, confused.  "They are all necessary, Mistress.  Each bump is a letter..."   
  
Daniel was intrigued in spite of himself.  "Show us the letters, Casey," he said.   
  
Nodding, Casey pointed to each letter and spelt out "Aloise."   
  
"I understand another difference."  Daniel looked encouragingly at Aloise.  "Do you see it, my dear?"   
  
She frowned at the word and finally looked up at him, shaking her head.   
  
"Look at your name," he said, pushing forward the parchment she had done.  He pointed to the first letter.  "L."   
  
"But 'l' isn't the first letter-" Casey said.   
  
"Not technically," Daniel agreed.  "Here is the 'a.'"  He pointed to a small dash above and to the right of the 'l.'  "Here is the 'oi,' above the 's.'"   
  
Casey nodded excitedly.  "I see!  The...  I do not know the word, but they are placed above."   
  
"Yes, vowels are placed above the consonants."   
  
"Vowels... Consonants," repeated Casey, reaching for the parchment with Daniel's name.   
  
"Excuse me, Master Daniel..."  The voice was frosty. Daniel and Casey started, as if they had been caught stealing, the parchment dropping from Casey's fingers.   
  
"Oh, Guord!"  Aloise turned to him, smiling broadly.  "Kehsey is showing us how they write in the north.  It's too funny!"   
  
A thin smile stretched Guord's lips, but it did not reach the rest of his face.  He walked over to the table and, with a questioning look at Aloise, began to gather up the parchments.   
  
Daniel glanced at Casey, who was rolling the pen thoughtfully between his fingers and mouthing the word 'vowels.'  "Help Guord clear the table," he said softly.   
  
With a blush, Casey scrambled to his feet and picked up the ink and pen, placing them on the side table where Guord had stacked the paper and parchment.  At Guord's bidding, two slaves entered with trays of food and placed them on the table.   
  
Casey followed Guord's direction and set out the dishes and wine before Aloise and Daniel, stumbling once when Guord stepped back into his path.  When they were settled, Daniel pointed to a small pillow to his right and Casey sat.  "Guord, I wish you to stay as well."  Guord inclined his head and sat at Aloise's right.  "You both may fill a plate and eat," Daniel continued, "for we have much to discuss."   
  
After both men were seated, Daniel turned to Aloise.  "Since this concerns both of our households, I would value your suggestions and comments, my wife.  I do not want to propose changes that will make you uncomfortable or add difficulties to your life. Please tell me your wishes."   
  
She looked at him uncertainly and shook her head.  "I don't know... I have no experience...  It shall be as you wish, my husband."   
  
A movement, quickly stilled, drew Daniel's eyes to Casey.  He lowered his face and scooped a bit of stew into his mouth, but, for a fraction of a second, Daniel clearly saw his look of pity.   
  
Raising his chin and glancing at Guord's smugly impassive face, Daniel continued.  "Very well.  Although Casey is my principal slave, I will rely on Guord to continue his instruction. El'yt began it, but there is much more for you to learn, Casey.  You may take your questions to Guord, who will answer them completely and in accordance with my wishes." Daniel looked at Guord, who nodded once.   
  
"Until I have bought the necessary slaves for my household, or until my father has given me some of his for my exclusive use, we shall continue to rely on the general family slaves."   
  
"Excuse me, Master Daniel," Guord said, his dark eyes flickering over Casey.  "In the event that Casey and I... interpret your wishes differently, who shall have the final word?"   
  
Daniel sighed to himself.  How like Guord to ask this question.  "In that event, you will find either your Mistress or myself, and we shall decide."   
  
"But Master Daniel, what if neither of you are available?"   
  
"That is unlikely," he said slowly, surprised at his unexpected reluctance to make that decision.   With a brisk shake of his head, he picked up his wine cup and drained it, setting it down with a thump.  "However, in that event, as my principal slave, Casey will have the final say.  Is that understood?"   
  
Guord's dark eyes flashed, and there were hectic patches of color high on his cheeks, as if he'd been slapped.  "Yes, Master Daniel," he murmured, lowering his eyes.   
  
Good.  That will take him down a notch or two.  Daniel turned to Casey, who nodded.  "Yes, Master," he said.   
  
"Now, for the moment, Mother Rebekah will continue maintaining our books.  However, I would like Casey to take over that task later, once he has had a chance to learn our writing and ciphering."  
  
Casey gave him a brief, but blinding smile, and the look of sincere delight in his eyes warmed Daniel.   
  
"But Master-" Guord's mouth snapped shut as Daniel raised his hand.   
  
"I know you were to have this responsibility, Guord, but I think Casey would be better suited to the task.  I shall still rely upon you to see to your Mistress's care and welfare, including those areas that we discussed earlier."  Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked at him fixedly.   
  
"Of course, Master Daniel," Guord said, staring at his hands folded tightly in his lap.   
  
"Now, a few other matters..."   
  
When they had finished, Guord rose stiffly and began to clear the table.  After a moment's hesitation, Casey scrambled to his feet and piled plates onto the tray, following Guord out of the room.   
  
Daniel smiled at his wife, catching her stifling a yawn, and stood.  "It is late, and you are tired.  Thank you for listening so patiently," he said, dropping a kiss onto her forehead.   
  
"I am tired, but I enjoyed seeing the northern writing.  Perhaps Casey could show me more?"   
  
"Of course," said Daniel.  "I will instruct him to do so.  Good night, my dear."   
  
Guord appeared in the doorway, Casey behind him, his shoulders hunched and his arms tightly folded across his chest, as if he was trying to disappear into himself.  Guord turned to Casey and his lips moved briefly.  Casey's head jerked up, his expression blank, but he did not respond or look at Guord.   
  
"Good night, husband," she said as Daniel turned to leave.  Without a word, Casey fell into place slightly behind him, silently trailing as they walked back to Daniel's quarters.   
  
He remained silent as they entered Daniel's rooms, standing with his head bowed when Daniel collapsed with a groan on the low couch.  "I am getting soft," he said with a laugh.  "A day in the saddle makes my bones ache."   
  
Casey did not move.   
  
Daniel narrowed his eyes and patted the cushion next to him.  "Come here," he said.  Casey slowly walked over to the couch and sat, his eyes lowered, his face impassive.  Only the tension in his hands and jaw betrayed him.  "What is troubling you?  Is it your Mistress?"   
  
"My Mistress?" Casey's head whipped up.  "Why should..." His mouth snapped shut and he blinked at Daniel for a moment, then he nodded once. "She is..."  He frowned and shook his head impatiently.  "She cannot hear?"   
  
"No."  Daniel looked at him and sighed.  "My father had made the marriage arrangements with her step-father over four years ago.  Not long afterward she got ill, and lost her hearing..."  He shrugged.  "It was decided that the marriage would continue."   
  
"I am sorry."  His hand crept over and fleetingly brushed Daniel's thigh.   
  
"Don't be," Daniel said brusquely.  "She is a good girl, and wishes to be a good wife.  I have no regrets."   
  
"None?"   
  
"No," he snapped.  Daniel stared at the lamp in the niche across the room, lost, for the moment, in his thoughts.   
  
"Master?"   
  
He blinked and turned to Casey.  "Yes?"   
  
"Did you..."  He pinched his lips together and smacked his thigh in frustration.  "Are you...  I want to learn to read," he whispered, turning to Daniel, eyes dark with longing.   
  
Daniel teetered on the edge, slipped, and fell into those brown eyes.  He lifted his hand, running a finger along Casey's jaw and down his throat, feeling the muscles contract as Casey swallowed.   
  
"You will," he promised, leaning forward and brushing his lips over Casey's cheek.  "Soon."   
  
"Thank you," Casey murmured, his hands clutching at Daniel's shoulders, fingers digging in as he twisted to meet Daniel's lips.  He drew his legs up over Daniel's thighs, groaning hungrily as Daniel tugged him forward. Their mouths met gently, tasting, sampling, each brief kiss accompanied by small, needy moans that spurred them on to more kissing, more caresses, and more moans.   
  
Daniel pressed closer, running his hands up Casey's back and tangling his fingers in the thick hair.  The heat pouring off Casey pooled between them, heavy and palpable.  Pulling away and gasping between kisses, Daniel blinked and stared at the broad form shadowed in the doorway.  Guord?  He blinked again, and the doorway was empty.   
  
Dismissing the vision, Daniel closed his eyes and leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to taste Casey's lips.  He planned to taste all of Casey before the night was over.   
  
At least once, and maybe twice. 


	20. Chapter 20

Daniel awoke slowly, his limbs heavy, his cock firmly nestled against something soft and warm.  He moved his hips experimentally, smiling as the movement was greeted with a soft groan and more pressure.  Tightening his arms around Casey's chest, he rubbed slowly against Casey's crease, gently teasing.   
  
"Mmmmmm..." Casey breathed, still half-asleep, rocking his hips in time to Daniel's rhythm.  He suddenly hissed when Daniel pressed against him firmly, and froze.   
  
"What is the matter?" Daniel murmured, stilling his own hips in response.   
  
"Nothing."   
  
"Nothing?"  Daniel slid his hand along Casey's flanks and down to his ass.   
  
"I'm sore," Casey groaned, twisting away from Daniel's fingers.   
  
Daniel smoothed the smile from his lips.  "I'm not surprised," he said, moving his hand to Casey's thigh, instead.  "I remember telling you last night that three times was too much-"   
  
Casey turned his head away, but Daniel could still see the blush that warmed his face.  "I know," he muttered.  "But," he turned to Daniel, eyes dancing, a slow smile turning up the corners of his mouth, "it was worth it..."   
  
Nodding, his throat suddenly too tight to speak, Daniel leaned forward and captured his mouth in a gentle kiss.  He rolled onto his back, carrying Casey with him, urging Casey's legs apart to rest on either side of his hips.  He slid his hands down Casey's long back, along his flanks and pulled his knees wider, so that their cocks were pressing against each other, hard flesh to hard flesh.   
  
"That's better," Casey whispered, and he began to thrust shallowly, rubbing his rigid cock against Daniel's cock and quivering stomach.   
  
"You," Daniel said, "will be the death of me one day."   
  
Hips stilling, Casey pulled back enough to search Daniel's eyes, his hands cupping his face.  "Don't say that," he replied, his voice suddenly harsh.  "Not even in jest."   
  
"No."  Daniel gripped Casey's strong, lean thighs, delighting in the play of muscles beneath his fingers.  "Oh, Casey..."  He angled his hips up and pushed against him, encouraging Casey to move again.   
  
Casey only grunted in response and resumed his rhythm, Daniel urging him on, his hands sliding around to the backs of Casey's thighs and then higher still.   
  
"Ow!" With a yelp, Casey pulled away, still panting, his glistening cock bobbing heavily.  He winced as he sat back on Daniel's shins, raising his ass enough to rub it gingerly.   
  
"I'm sorry!"  Daniel sat up and rested his hands lightly on Casey's shoulders.  "I didn't mean to hurt you."   
  
Casey chuffed a small, dry chuckle.  "I know." He winced and scrambled over Daniel's legs, dropping onto his side and giving Daniel a rueful look.  "I can still-" he continued, lifting an eyebrow and reaching for Daniel's cock.   
  
"No, wait."   
  
Daniel slid off the bed and tossed the jar of salve into the bed, then grabbed a cloth, wetting it in the cool water in the washbasin.  "This will help.  Turn over onto your stomach," he instructed, "put a pillow under your hips and spread your legs."   
  
Casey shot him a questioning look, but did as he was told, shifting his hips until he was comfortable.  He raised himself on his elbows, looking back over his shoulder, as Daniel gently spread his cheeks and winced guiltily at the sight of Casey's swollen, reddened flesh.  Of course three penetrations would be painful.  He would have to curb his appetite for Casey a little, or else be far more creative in bringing them both pleasure - he would *not* hurt Casey like this again.   
  
"Be still," he said, placing the cool cloth along Casey's crease and pressing it gently against his hole.  Casey shivered, his eyes dark and enormous, and Daniel gave in to temptation and leaned forward, placing soft kisses full of promise over Casey's cheeks.   
  
"Oh..."  Casey dropped his head and moaned into the sheets.  "Better..."   
  
After a few minutes, Daniel removed the cloth and spread Casey's cheeks as wide as he could without hurting him.  The redness had eased, and although the flesh was still swollen, there were no tears or abrasions.  His fingers caressed Casey's cheeks, and he slowly and carefully pressed his lips just above his puffy hole.   
  
Casey moaned and ground his hips into the pillow.   
  
Opening the jar, Daniel scooped out a large dollop of salve, then lightly rested his finger against Casey's hole.   
  
Another moan encouraged him to gently rub the salve over the swollen flesh, dipping the tip of his finger inside to coat the passage.   
  
"Oh, Master, please...  Inside me!" Casey pleaded, his hips shifting in small circles.   
  
"No, not today," Daniel said, sliding a little more of his finger inside.   
  
"Yes!" Casey thrust his hips back, trying to get more inside.   
  
"No." Daniel's voice was stern, and he pulled out his finger, letting it press lightly on Casey's hole.  Casey wriggled his hips impatiently and tried to push back again. "I don't want to hurt you," he continued, placing his forearm across Casey's ass, just above the crease, and pressing down firmly.   
  
"I don't *care*," Casey rasped, "take me, fill me up, make me forget-"   
  
"Forget what?" Daniel asked, barely moving his finger and holding him immobile.   
  
"What?"  Casey sounded dazed.   
  
"What do you need to forget?"  Daniel coated his finger with more salve and continued rubbing gently, poking his finger in and then withdrawing it quickly.   
  
"Forget?" Casey shivered and tried to move, but Daniel simply pressed his arm down harder and slipped more and more of his finger into Casey.  "I want-  I-  Ahhhh...   Oh, Master..."   
  
Daniel pushed his finger in completely, still careful not to cause further injury, and twisted it.  "Forget what, Casey?"   
  
"Forget-" Casey gasped and tried to rise on his elbows, but his arms collapsed when Daniel slid a second finger inside.  "The fighting-  All those bodies... my-"  He sobbed once, then struggled frantically to move.  "Being *bought*, being a *slave*-"   
  
Daniel crooked his fingers and rubbed hard.  With a shuddering wail, Casey froze for a moment, then pumped his hips against the pillow, his ass quivering, the muscle wildly clutching Daniel's fingers.   
  
His breath coming in harsh gasps, Casey turned on his side, his back to Daniel.  Placing a kiss in the middle of Casey's shoulders, Daniel slid his fingers out and wiped them on the cloth.  Ignoring his own erection, he curled up around Casey as best as he could, his hands moving lightly over his damp skin, soothing, comforting.   
  
After a few minutes, Daniel lifted the thick fall of Casey's hair and mouthed sloppy kisses on the back of his neck.  Casey took a deep, quavery breath, and relaxed back into Daniel's arms.   
  
"Are you feeling better?" he finally asked.   
  
Pause.  "Yes."   
  
"Well enough to go riding?"   
  
A sudden shifting tangle of arms and legs resolved itself into Casey's eyes, staring at him, hope and caution warring in their depths.   
  
"Riding?"   
  
"I must travel to see my cousin Zaeve this morning, and if you are well enough, I would like for you to accompany me."   
  
"Truly?" Casey's fingers dug into Daniel's shoulders.   
  
"Yes, truly." Daniel nodded and smiled at Casey's eager look.   
  
"No lessons? No chores? No-" Casey suddenly squeezed his eyes shut.  His lips moved, but Daniel could not hear the words.   
  
"What did you say?" Daniel asked, his fingers ghosting over Casey's temple, cheek and jaw.   
  
Opening his eyes, Casey blushed, and his mouth twisted into a wry grin.  "It doesn't matter."   
  
Letting the matter go, Daniel leaned over and kissed Casey's nose.  "So, do you think you'll be able to ride today?"   
  
"Yes!"  Casey laughed, suddenly sounding young and carefree. "Even if I must stand in the saddle."  
  
"I hope you won't have to do that," Daniel chuckled at Casey's enthusiasm, his voice muffled as Casey hugged him tightly.  "Now, we must leave soon-"  He broke off and groaned as Casey's hand snaked down and wrapped around Daniel's cock, pumping gently.   
  
"Soon enough," Casey murmured, speeding up his hand.  "You cannot ride with *this* in the saddle."   
  
With a moan, Daniel rolled onto his back, his hips shifting restlessly as Casey continued to stroke his cock and murmur encouragement.   
  
"Come for me, my Master," he said, bending down to press a kiss to the head of his cock. "Come hard for me..."   
  
Daniel obliged, groaning out Casey's name as he jerked and spurted over his chest and belly, dribbling over Casey's fingers.   
  
"Good boy," Casey grinned, giving his exhausted cock a gentle squeeze before releasing it and capturing his mouth in a quick kiss.  "*Now* we can leave."   
  
Daniel blinked and lifted his head as Casey bounced off the bed and headed toward the privy.  He let his head fall back and panted softly.   
  
Casey might be the death of him, but what a way to go.   
  
An hour later they were riding Zeina and Salimeh along a dusty path that followed the cliffs, Casey wearing a borrowed shirt, trousers and pair of boots.  Daniel had watched, intrigued, as Casey put them on, his very stance altering as he donned each garment.  He seemed more assured, more in command, his back straighter, his shoulders squared.  It was fascinating, but unsettling, as well.   
  
As Casey had gone to fetch their breakfast and a waterskin for their journey, Daniel quickly stowed several articles in a bag and put it with the rest of their supplies.  He hoped that they would have sufficient time on their way back to stop at a particular place he wished to show Casey, and it would do no harm to be prepared for any eventuality.   
  
Casey had winced as he had mounted Salimeh, but he did not complain, even when the route grew rocky and they had to sit well back on the saddle to keep their balance.  Once they were back on level ground, Daniel grinned at Casey.   
  
"Race you to that rock."  He pointed to a large outcropping in the distance.   
  
"But Master-" Casey began, shrugging helplessly. He startled Daniel by suddenly flashing him a wicked grin and taking off on Salimeh.   
  
"I'll get you, you..." Daniel muttered, spurring Zeina into a gallop.   
  
Casey rode well, despite the fact that Salimeh was not a horse built for speed.  Daniel suspected that, given a higher-quality horse, Casey would have been impossible to beat.  But Salimeh was no match for Zeina, and Casey was soon outpaced.   
  
Daniel passed him with a whoop and holler, grinning at him over his shoulder as Casey waved his crop and slowed Salimeh to a more responsible pace.  Reaching the rock, he waited patiently for Casey to catch up.   
  
He trotted up, smiling broadly, pushing away tendrils of hair that had escaped their bonds.  "If I had a fine horse like her," he nodded toward Zeina, "I would have won."  He leaned forward and stroked Salimeh's neck.  "This one is steady - good for teaching children or for women carrying a baby."   
  
Daniel nodded.  "You rode her well, however."   
  
Casey shrugged, then shaded his eyes with his hand and looked ahead.  "How much farther?"   
  
"We ride until we meet the river, and then it's only a couple of miles along the banks."   
  
With a nod, Casey urged Salimeh forward.  They rode in silence for a while, and Daniel noticed that Casey was looking with interest at the surrounding countryside.   
  
"Is this so different from the northern lands?" he asked.   
  
Casey looked up at the cloudless blue sky, then his gaze moved to the dusty path that drove through the tumbled piles of smooth, weathered stone and low mounds of gray-green scrub brush.  He sighed.   
  
"Very different," he replied shortly.   
  
Daniel looked around, trying to see the land he knew so well through new eyes.  "One day," he said slowly, "perhaps you will tell me about the land of your birth."   
  
Shooting Daniel a glance, Casey turned to the path ahead.  "Perhaps."   
  
Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again.  Certainly he was curious about Casey's homeland, but it was too early to rekindle those memories.  He should not even have mentioned the subject.  He glanced at Casey, but it did not seem to have caused any harm.  Still, he might as well introduce Casey to his new land now.   
  
"If you follow these cliffs," he said, pointing to the high wall of stone on their left, "they will lead you to the river.  The water bisects my father's lands, and there are fields on either side."   
  
Casey looked around doubtfully.  "How can you grow crops in such a place?  It's so arid."   
  
"It's not all like this," he said.  "But for the areas that are, we use irrigation.  The soil is very fertile, you see..."   
  
"But what about..."   
  
The time passed quickly as they talked, and Daniel was surprised when they arrived at cousin Zaeve's home.   
  
They dismounted, and Daniel handed Casey Zeina's reins.  "Take the horses around to the stable," he said as he strode toward Zaeve, waiting at the doorway.  "And then come inside."   
  
Daniel greeted Zaeve, who, although not strictly a cousin, was given the honors of that title.  He accepted the proffered hospitality and sipped the cup of strong, sweet coffee that Zaeve's wife placed before him as Zaeve wound his way through the ritual of greeting.  Their seven children sat quiet and still in the background.   
  
Nodding and responding automatically, Daniel turned and beckoned when Casey appeared in the doorway.  He pointed to a pillow by his feet and watched Casey's shoulders stiffen and his expression go carefully blank.  He sat obediently, however, his eyes on the floor and his hands clasped tightly in his lap.   
  
Zaeve finished the greeting and began his list of complaints and excuses: why his fields, although some of the most fertile in the land, would not yield as much as other, less desirable ones; how his neighbors were trying to cheat him; and why Yakob should forgive him certain loans and favors.  It was all familiar to Daniel, tempting him to rest his eyes on the parts of Casey's neck and cheek that were visible.  The long tendons of his neck stretched to meet the strong, square line of his jaw, the sun-reddened skin curving over his throat and up to that soft, vulnerable place above his Adam's apple that Daniel loved to kiss.   
  
"Cousin Daniel?"   
  
"Yes?" he said, abruptly tearing his eyes away from Casey and meeting Zaeve's knowing gaze.   
  
"Don't you agree?"   
  
Daniel held his eyes for a moment, then shrugged.  "I will discuss it with my father, Cousin.  You will receive word of his decision soon."   
  
Zaeve pursed his lips and bowed his head.  "Of course."  His voice was tight, his offense plain.   
  
"I wish to see your fields, now," said Daniel, standing.  "You mentioned several improvements you have made..."   
  
Zaeve proudly showed them around his crops and fruit trees, and after they were finished, his wife brought them a simple, but satisfying, lunch of bread, yogurt and fruit.  Zaeve urged Daniel to stay and rest, but he politely refused.   
  
"My father is expecting me back soon," he said, mounting Zeina after thanking Zaeve for his hospitality.  "He is anxious to hear of you."   
  
Zaeve stepped closer.  "You won't forget to ask him about-" He looked up at Daniel expectantly.   
  
"Of course not."  Daniel glanced at Casey, who was gingerly mounting Salimeh. "Farewell, Cousin.  Come, Casey."   
  
They were well out of Zaeve's earshot when Daniel turned to Casey.   
  
"What did I promise to talk to my father about?" he asked with a sigh.   
  
Casey looked at him blankly for a moment, then his face creased in a grin.  "If you thought your cousin's eldest daughter was beautiful."   
  
"Oh, damn..." Daniel murmured, shaking his head.  "Zaeve wants me to marry her."   
  
Casey laughed.  "But you cannot have two wives."   
  
"Why not?" Daniel asked, curious.  "A man may have up to four wives, if he can afford to keep them in comfort."   
  
Frowning, Casey stared at him.  "You're joking."   
  
"Not at all."   
  
Casey's frown deepened.  "Will you marry her?"   
  
"No," said Daniel shortly.   
  
"Oh."  They rode in silence along the river bank for several minutes.  "Why not?"   
  
Daniel stared out over the rippling water, his eyes suddenly burning.  "She was promised to my brother Samuel.  When he died, that contract was broken."   
  
"I see," said Casey quietly.  "I did not know you had a brother."   
  
Daniel shrugged.  "I did, and now I don't."   
  
"How did he die?"   
  
Conscious of Casey's eyes on him, Daniel kept his gaze fixed on the river, squinting in the glare of the sun.  "He had a riding accident."  His eyes watered, and he wiped them angrily.  "He was young and foolish, and paid for his foolishness with his life."   
  
Casey's fingers touched his knee.  "I'm sorry."   
  
"There is no need.  It is not spoken of."   
  
The fingers withdrew, and they continued on, the only sound the crunch of the horses' hooves on the stony ground and an occasional nicker and snort from Salimeh.  They reached the place where the cliff path joined the river but Daniel did not turn.   
  
"Master?  Isn't this the right way?"  Casey reined in Salimeh and looked at Daniel, confused.   
  
"I wish to show you something first," Daniel replied.  "This way."   
  
He led them further up the river, along a narrow, treacherous path that bordered the steep bank to the fast-moving waters.  The horses carefully picked their way until the bank flattened out and the river split, a small tributary joining the main branch.  Daniel directed Zeina to the left, up the stream that tumbled along the bottom of a high-walled canyon.  The horses splashed through the shallow water and around a rocky bend. A sandbar rose from the stream bed, and beside it, sheltered by a sheer-faced cliff and series of stony shelves, was a small pool.   
  
Riding onto the sandbar, Daniel slid off Zeina and draped her reins over a piece of wood caught in a tumble of stones.  He unfastened a rolled up blanket strapped behind his saddle, and hoisted it under his arm.   
  
"What are you waiting for?  Come on."  Leaping to the lowest shelf, he carefully unrolled the blanket and took out the bag stowed in the middle.   
  
Casey looked around.  The air was cool, the rocks warm from the sun, and he suddenly grinned and clambered off Salimeh.  Tying her reins to Zeina's saddle, he walked stiffly to the edge of the sandbank and dipped his fingers in the water.   
  
"This is cold!" he yelled, shading his eyes and peering upstream.  "Where does it come from?"   
  
"The mountains," said Daniel, and Casey joined him on the shelf, where Daniel was sitting and pulling off his boots.   
  
"I'm not swimming in that." Casey said, crossing his arms and shaking his head.  "It's too cold."   
  
"Don't be a coward."  Daniel unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it over his shoulders, pleased that Casey's gaze was fixed on his chest.   
  
"I'm not a coward."  Casey's face turned pink.   
  
"Yes, you are." He stood and pulled off his trousers, stretching his arms over his head just to see Casey's eyes go dark.   
  
"No, I'm not."   
  
"Then prove it - come in with me."  Daniel sat at the edge of the shelf and dangled his legs in the water.   
  
"I don't need to prove it."   
  
Daniel slid into the water and paddled to the other side of the pool.  "If you come in, I will show you something you will enjoy."   
  
Chewing on his lip, Casey glanced over at the horses, then back at Daniel.  "I am still too sore," he admitted quietly.   
  
"Not that."  Daniel smiled.  "Something else you will enjoy."   
  
Shifting on his feet, Casey finally nodded.  "All right." He stripped and sat carefully on the edge of the shelf, then touched his foot to the water.  "It's *warm*!"   
  
Laughing, Daniel motioned to him.  "It's even warmer over here."  Casey slid into the pool, the water reaching to the middle of his chest.   
  
"How is it possible?" he asked as he slowly made his way across.   
  
"There is a warm spring that enters it here," Daniel said, taking Casey's hand and moving it toward the back wall of the cliff, about two feet below the surface.  Casey grinned as the stream of hot water hit his hand.   
  
"How did you discover this?"   
  
"I was about eleven, and wished to explore.  My older cousins were traveling up the river, and they would not allow me to accompany them, so I decided to come up the stream on my own.  I found the pool then."   
  
"Does anyone else know about it?"  Casey moved until he was directly in front of the jet of hot water.   
  
"I don't think so."  Daniel slid his hand up Casey's arm and cupped his neck.  "But I thought you could use a soak in warm water," he continued, his other arm wrapping around Casey's shoulders.  "So I brought you here."   
  
He leaned forward and caught Casey's mouth in a light, teasing kiss, turning Casey so that his back was to the wall.   
  
"Spread your legs," he murmured, pulling Casey's shoulders toward him.  Slipping his hand from Casey's neck, he stroked down his back, angling him so that the hot water was aimed directly at his ass.   
  
"Oh!"  Casey clung to him, his face buried in the crook of Daniel's neck.   
  
"Feel good?"   
  
Casey nodded, shivering.   
  
Brushing his lips over Casey's thick hair, Daniel slowly slid his other hand down to Casey's ass.  Grasping both cheeks with his hands, he pulled them apart, exposing Casey's hole to the full force of the water.   
  
Casey moaned and muttered a string of unintelligible words, his shoulders and hands moving reflexively.  After several minutes, Casey raised his head and blinked, his eyes glazed.   
  
"Enough?"   
  
Nodding slowly, Casey straightened, swaying a little.  "Thank you," he said softly.   
  
"I though it would help."  Daniel led him across the pool and reached into the bag he had brought.  "And now, you could use a wash," he said, lathering his hands with a piece of soap and rubbing them over Casey's chest and arms.   
  
"And you as well," Casey replied, grabbing the soap and sliding it slowly across Daniel's shoulders, gasping as Daniel rolled his nipple gently between his fingers.  "Don't forget," he continued, his voice husky, his eyes hot, "to wash your face..."   
  
Suddenly he grinned and splashed a handful of water right in Daniel's face.   
  
"Casey!" Spluttering, Daniel wiped his eyes and stared at him.   
  
So Casey splashed him again.   
  
With a whoop, Daniel pounced, dragging Casey under the water, and for the next several minutes only the sounds of half-choked yells and splashing water filled the canyon.   
  
"Pax," Casey finally said as he hauled himself onto the stone shelf, coughing and laughing.   
  
"Agreed," Daniel choked, brushing his dripping hair from his eyes and resting his arms on the stone beside Casey's legs.   
  
With a sigh, Casey folded his hands behind his head and lay back on the blanket, poking his toes at Daniel's arm.  "We still aren't very clean."   
  
"Come back in and we can try again."  Daniel ran his hand gently up Casey's leg.   
  
Casey stilled and looked at him, suddenly solemn.  "Is that an order for your slave, Master?"   
  
Daniel's fingers tightened on Casey's thigh, then released.  "No."  He turned his head, looking at the horses.  "A request to my bed-mate."   
  
Gentle fingers cupped his chin and turned him to face warm brown eyes.  "Your bed-mate accepts."  Soft lips brushed his, and he tugged Casey forward, back into the water.   
  
Soapy hands slid over skin, teasing, smoothing, slipping under arms and between legs.  Kisses were exchanged, turning from playful to heated to frantic as their bodies responded to the demands of fingers and tongues and hard, heavy cocks.   
  
"Out, out," muttered Daniel, sluicing water over his soapy hair, rinsing it clean.   
  
"Why?"  Casey's hands plucked at his shoulders as he clambered out of the water.   
  
"Because I want to *taste* you, and I can't without drowning!" Daniel said, exasperated.   
  
"Oh."  Blinking owlishly, Casey suddenly ducked under the water and emerged, dripping.  He crawled up onto the ledge and onto the blanket, stretching out beside Daniel and leaning over for a kiss.   
  
Moving slowly down Casey's body, Daniel anointed lips, throat, nipples, navel and cock with tiny nibbles and licks.  Casey moaned, his hips shifting restlessly, as Daniel lowered his mouth over his cock.   
  
"Master!  Hurry!"   
  
His Master did.   
  
An hour later, sated and sunburnt, they mounted their horses and started home.   
  
"Master?"   
  
"Yes?"  Daniel looked at him curiously.   
  
"Today was... good."   
  
"It was good day for me, too."  Daniel leaned forward and touched his cheek gently.  "Thank you."   
  
Casey kissed Daniel's fingers and smiled. 


	21. Chapter 21

  
There was a knock, and Daniel stirred reluctantly.   
  
Another.   
  
"Yes?" he called out, twisting his head toward the noise.   
  
"Master Daniel?"  Guord appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening for a second before gazing fixedly at the floor.   
  
"Well, what is it?"  Daniel unwrapped himself from around Casey and turned over.   
  
"I beg your pardon, Master.  I thought-"  Guord's voice cut off abruptly as Casey murmured and shifted, snaking a hand over Daniel's chest.   
  
Suddenly impatient for him to deliver his message and leave, Daniel twined his fingers in Casey's and looked coolly at Guord.  "Your thoughts are not important.  Do you have a reason to be here?"   
  
Guord's head jerked up, as if he'd been struck, and his face darkened.  "Yes... Master.  My Mistress wishes to know if you will permit Casey to show her more of the northern writing today."   
  
"I see..."  Daniel yawned and tried to think, a process that was becoming increasingly difficult as Casey gently rubbed himself against Daniel's back and ass.  "Well, we must see Rebekah this morning..."  He pulled Casey's fingers away from his nipple, which they had been teasing with little pinches.  "Tell my wife that Casey will come to her this afternoon.  If he has left any chores unfinished, you can complete them."   
  
"Yes, Master Daniel," Guord murmured.   
  
Daniel turned to Casey, whose caresses were becoming more demanding. "That is all," he said, not waiting for Guord leave before capturing Casey's mouth in a kiss.   
  
"That's not all," said Casey, his eyes still closed, as he slid his hands down to clasp Daniel's erection.  "There's so much more."   
  
"True," Daniel groaned, as Casey stroked him possessively.  Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard the door close.   
  
"More of *this*," Casey murmured, kissing his way down Daniel's chest.  "More of *that*," he continued, dropping heavy, wet kisses on the crown of Daniel's cock.   
  
Daniel shivered and moaned as Casey slowly tormented him, bringing him to the edge of orgasm and then keeping him there, balancing on the knife-edge of desire.   
  
"Please, Casey," he finally begged, his fingers tangled in Casey's long hair.   
  
He groaned at the feel of the cool air as Casey slid his mouth from his dripping cock for a moment, and groaned again when the heat returned.  A tickle, an insistent rubbing on his ass made him shiver and cry out - "Yes..." - and spread his legs.   
  
A wet finger circled his hole as his cock throbbed and his balls drew up.  When he realized what was happening, he gasped and closed his legs, trapping Casey's hand between his thighs.   
  
"No!"  He raised his head, his hands tugging on Casey's hair.   
  
Casey's lips released his cock, but his finger still gently rubbed Daniel's hole.  Daniel's cock twitched as warmth spread across his ass and between his thighs.  Oh, it felt so good...   
  
"Yes," Casey said, smiling as he worked the tip of his finger into Daniel.   
  
"No..."  Daniel shifted his hips, his thighs parting slightly as Casey slid his finger in a little deeper.  Warmth across his ass blossomed into heat.  His hands, still tangled in Casey's hair, pushed his head toward his cock.  "No..." he moaned.   
  
"Yes."   
  
He could hear the triumph in Casey's voice as the finger slid deeper still, sending hot liquid pulses along his nerves.  He could feel Casey's knuckles pressed against his ass, and the thought that Casey was doing this made his cock jerk and ache.   
  
Casey leaned forward and gently kissed the tip of his cock, then slowly twisted his finger inside Daniel.  Gasping, sure that he would ignite with pleasure at any moment if Casey continued, Daniel let his head fall back onto the pillows.   
  
"Yes?" Casey asked, his voice dark and predatory.   
  
Daniel swallowed hard and loosened his grip on Casey's skull.   
  
"Yes," he whispered, closing his eyes and tightening his muscles, squeezing Casey's finger.   
  
Casey exhaled, a long, shaky sigh.  "*Mine*."   
  
With a wail, Daniel orgasmed.   
  
An hour later, washed and breakfasted, Daniel led Casey to the women's quarters in search of Rebekah.  They found her in her rooms, engrossed in a book.  Her face lit up when she saw Daniel at the door, and she beckoned them inside.   
  
"Mother Rebekah," Daniel said in greeting, kissing her lightly on the cheek.  "I have come to ask if you are able to take on another pupil."   
  
"And who might that be?" she replied with a smile, carefully marking her place and setting the book aside.  "You are too old for such things, Son Daniel."  She patted the cushion beside her.   
  
"Not for me," he said, sitting down close to her, but not too close.  "For Casey."   
  
"Your slave?"  Rebekah looked at Casey, standing by the door.  "He is too old to learn to read, I'm afraid."   
  
"I can read, Mistress," Casey broke in before Daniel could speak.  "But not your language."   
  
"Is this true?"  Rebekah turned to Daniel.   
    
"Yes, it is."   
  
"I thought you were grooming Aloise's principal slave to keep your records and accounts."   
  
"I was, but I changed my mind.  Guord has enough to keep him busy running Aloise's household."   
  
"Well..."  She looked at Casey again, frowning.  "I will do it, but only if he works hard and does what I ask him."   
  
"I will ensure that he does," Daniel said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her fingers.  "Thank you."   
  
She colored and stared at her hand, still held firmly in Daniel's.  "It is the least I can do," she murmured, slowly pulling her hand away and hiding it beneath a fold in her robe.  "When shall we begin?  This afternoon?"   
  
"No."  Daniel turned to Casey at his sound of disappointment.  "I must leave tomorrow for the western settlements, Casey, and there is much to be done in the meantime.  There will be time for lessons when we return."   
  
Casey's eyes widened, and then darted over his face, searching.  "We?" he ventured.   
  
"Yes. You will accompany me."  Daniel smiled at Casey's stunned expression.  "I will have need of your services while I am traveling."   
  
Casey lowered his eyes, but he could not hide the slow flush of color that spread across his face.  "Thank you, Master."   
  
"How long will you be gone, Daniel?" Rebekah asked, her voice sharp.   
  
"About seven days, unless there is unrest in the settlements or a problem with the watchers on the Negil Cliffs."   
  
"Will I- *we* see you at dinner tonight?"   
  
"Of course."  Daniel turned back to her, surprised to see two spots of color high on her cheeks.  "Are you well?"   
  
She brushed the back of her hand over her cheek and nodded.  "Yes, of course.  It is a little... stuffy in here." She moved to stand, and Daniel held her arm, helping her to her feet.  "I shall go to the courtyard."   
  
Casey carried her abacus, ledgers and books to the courtyard, as Daniel settled her in her favorite chair.  "We shall begin the lessons when you return," she said, holding out her hand for the abacus.  Casey's fingers lingered on the beads for a moment before giving it to her.   
  
"Thank you, Mistress," he murmured, giving the books one last caress before clasping his hands behind him and stepping back.   
  
"Until this evening," said Daniel, brushing her cheek with another kiss.  "And I add my thanks to Casey's."   
  
She nodded, looking at the two of them, her eyebrows drawn together, her forehead puckered.  "This evening, then."  And she picked up her book.   
  
Casey practically vibrated with excitement as they walked back to Daniel's rooms, questions about their journey tumbling headlong over each other, hardly giving Daniel time to answer before asking another.   
  
"Enough, Casey," he said when they reached his rooms, holding up his hand to stem the flow of questions.  "I will tell you what you need to prepare and pack.  You will go to Aloise later and show her more of your writing, and then I will take dinner with my father.  After dinner we will talk about the journey, and," his voice darkened as he drew Casey close, his hand sliding down to cup Casey's ass, "you will pay for your presumption in bed this morning."   
  
Casey grinned and leaned forward for a kiss.  When they parted, panting, he nuzzled Daniel's neck and placed tiny kisses right behind his ear.  "You cannot deny that you enjoyed it."   
  
Daniel shivered, goosebumps traveling over his achingly sensitive flesh.  The brush of his clothing, the heat from Casey's fingers on his arms, the whisper of air as Casey breathed on his neck threatened to overwhelm him, to drag him beneath the dark wave poised to crash.   
  
"I did," he murmured, his voice cracking.  With a shake, he pulled himself back from the brink, stepping out of Casey's arms, and took a deep breath.   
  
"But now is not the time."  He turned on rubbery knees, thankful that he did not stumble, and pointed to the clothes chest.  "We must get started.  Open that and find my traveling robe..."   
  
Some time later, Casey asked, "Master?"   
  
Daniel looked up from the papers he was organizing.  "Yes?"   
  
Casey held two books that Daniel had selected to take with them.  He slowly drew his fingers down the tooled leather and across the embossed lettering, as if he were mapping a lover's body.  "Will you have time to begin my lessons while we are away?"   
  
"Perhaps.  Although it would probably be best for you to begin your lessons with Reb-  Mother Rebekah."   
  
Kneeling and placing the books in the pack, Casey glanced at him briefly.  "She is very beautiful."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"She seems... fond of you.  And you of her."   
  
Daniel's head jerked up. "Of course I am fond of her.  She is my father's wife," he said sharply.   
  
Shaking his head, Casey picked up a shirt and folded it carefully.  "I did not mean it that way."   
  
"Then what did you mean?"  Daniel stood abruptly. The room was suddenly close and airless, and he felt sweat dampening his armpits.   
  
Letting the shirt fall to his side, Casey looked up at him, his brows drawn together in concern.  "Only what I said. I did not mean to upset you."   
  
Daniel whirled around and strode to the open door, stopping at the threshold, his back to Casey.  He clasped the doorjamb, his fingers pale against the dark wood, and consciously willed his muscles to relax. "It is not a topic I wish to discuss."   
  
Cool hands slid up his back and rested lightly on his shoulders.  "I'm sorry."  The hands tugged at him, pulling him back against Casey's warm body.  "You love her, don't you?"   
  
"It is no concern to you."   
  
"Perhaps not, but I do not like to see you unhappy."   
  
"I am perfectly happy."   
  
Casey did not answer.   
  
"I *am*."   
  
Silence.   
  
Daniel pulled himself from Casey's arms and turned, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.  He boldly met Casey's eyes, but the pity he saw there almost undid him.  With a lift of his chin, he pushed past Casey and fell to his knees, rooting blindly in the pack, shoving aside the carefully folded clothing.   
  
"Master, I did not mean-"   
  
Waving his hand dismissively, Daniel sat back on his heels.  "I know," he sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face.  "It is a subject-"  He swallowed hard.  "I loved and was to marry Rebekah.  Samuel was promised to Aloise, and when he died, my father decided that I should marry her."   
  
A gentle hand rested on his back.  "But you can take more than one wife."   
  
"Not when I am just starting a household."  He laughed without humor.  "Rebekah's family insisted that we honor our contract.  I had to ask her-"  His voice cut off, his throat burning, mirroring the burning in his eyes.  "I had to ask her who, among my family, she would be willing to marry, and she chose my father.  She said-"  He set his jaw and forced himself to continue.  "She said she would rather not marry a young man, like myself..."   
  
The hand on his back slid forward, an arm wrapped around his chest, and a cheek was pressed between his shoulder blades.   
  
"I am sorry.  It is... *difficult* to lose the woman you love."   
  
"It would have been easier if she were dead," Daniel said roughly, allowing himself to sink into his sorrow.  "Then I would not have to see her every day."   
  
Casey's hand trembled on his chest.  "Perhaps," he murmured, his voice catching.  "But you tempt ill fortune by your words."   
  
With a sigh, Daniel shook his head.  "No, I do not wish her dead.  For a while, however, I wished death for myself."  Daniel bowed his head and pressed his hand over Casey's.  "I am glad the gods did not listen to my wishes."   
  
Casey murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "As am I," and then he continued. "It must have been a lonely time."   
  
Daniel shrugged.  "I had my new bride to play with and teach every day."   
  
"And what did you do every night?" Casey's voice was dark and soft.   
  
"There are always a few willing women who are happy to share a Master's bed.  I did not coerce them," he added stiffly.   
  
"I cannot imagine anyone who would deny you."   
  
"Flatterer," Daniel said sharply, but Casey's words warmed his heart.   
  
"And did you... did you take any men to your bed?"   
  
"No.  Not until you."   
  
"Oh."  Casey shifted against his back, pressing himself closer.  "I thought you might have bedded someone... perhaps Guord."   
  
"Guord?"  Daniel threw his head back and laughed.  "That *thing*?  Even if he were whole, I would rather take a scorpion to my bed."   
  
"Whole?"   
  
"He is not a man any more.  Aloise's step-father had him gelded before he sent him here as part of her household."   
  
Casey shivered against him.  "Gelded?  Is that a... common practice?"   
  
"Not unless the slave is intractable or as punishment for a grievous offense.  I understand that Guord was originally a high-ranking member of the king's household.  He was discovered committing an... indiscretion with one of the king's concubines, for which indiscretion he was enslaved, maimed and sent here with Aloise.  But I have no complaints about him - he has proved an efficient principal slave, and Aloise is quite attached to him."   
  
Daniel pressed his hand over Casey's, stroking it gently.  "We are almost finished packing, and it is time for you to go to my wife," he said, keeping his voice steady with an effort.  "I must consult with my cousins before our journey, and then I must dine with my father.  When you return, set out one of my best robes, and ensure there is warm water for me to bathe.  Prepare yourself as well," he drew Casey's fingers to his lips and kissed them softly, "for I would have you there with me."   
  
Warmth blossomed on his back where Casey kissed him, and Daniel reluctantly released his fingers.  Casey left, closing the door carefully behind him, but Daniel did not turn around.  He continued to kneel, staring at his hands lying limply in his lap.  Talking about Rebekah had pained him, as it always had, but he was shocked to realize that it hadn't hurt quite as much as before, that speaking of his sorrow to Casey had somehow drawn off a portion of the agony.   
  
That was monstrous - a betrayal of his love for Rebekah.  And yet, it was true.  He pressed his hand over the place on his chest where Casey's fingers had rested, his shirt still warm from his touch.  Ah, what was he to do?   
  
Dropping his hand as if it burned, he scrambled to his feet and almost ran to his cousin Dauid's rooms. 


	22. Chapter 22

Shadows were long over the ground as Daniel returned to his rooms.  He would be late for dinner if he did not hurry.  Throwing open the door with a bang, he called for Casey as he dashed into the bedroom.   
  
Casey looked up as he poured water into the basin, his brows drawn together, his face pale in the lamplight.  "You must hurry," he said, setting down the ewer and helping Daniel strip.   
  
Daniel was pleased to see that he had already washed and dressed in a clean robe, and he permitted Casey to quickly scrub him down, and then help him into his clothing.   
  
"Your hair," Casey muttered, grabbing the brush and smoothing it, then tying it back.   
  
Daniel glanced at him, surprised that he was still frowning.  Catching Casey's chin with his fingers, he let a smile lift the corners of his mouth.  "Do not worry if we are a little late.  My father understands that I have much to do before our journey."  He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, resisting the temptation to linger.  "Did Aloise enjoy your demonstration of northern writing?"   
  
His eyes slid to the left of Daniel, and he stared fixedly at a spot on the wall.  "Yes, Master," he said, his voice carefully neutral.   
  
"Casey," Daniel said gently, "I would have the truth.  Did you have a problem with my wife?"   
  
"Your wife?" He glanced at Daniel, worry plain on his face.  "No."   
  
"Who, then?"   
  
Casey's eyes dropped and a wash of color tinted his cheeks.  "I shouldn't..."   
  
"Was it Guord?"   
  
"How did-" Casey blurted before he pressed his lips together tightly and stepped back.   
  
"This happens whenever a new slave arrives," Daniel reassured him with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder.  "Guord is used to having a certain amount of authority, and he is resentful that he must now share it with you.  Put your fears aside - if he continues to harass you, I will speak with him."   
  
"Thank you, Master."  Casey stepped closer, his hands creeping around Daniel's waist.   
  
"Casey, we must go now."  Pulling away gently, he let the back of his hand brush Casey's cheek.  "We are late."   
  
Casey bit his lip and nodded, following Daniel as he strode from the room.   
  
Everyone was seated at the table when they arrived, and Yakob accepted Daniel's apologies without comment.  Salaeh glanced at him from beneath heavy lids and took the pitcher of wine from the slave, pouring Yakob a cup. Rebekah looked at him intently, her eyes darting from Daniel to Casey, sitting behind him, a questioning look on her face that Daniel did not understand.   
  
"How are you feeling, my dear?" Yakob asked Rebekah, once the flurry of serving was over and their plates were filled.   
  
"Very well, thank you, my husband." She smiled and her hand lightly caressed her swollen stomach.   
  
"And the child?"   
  
She chuckled.  "If the force of his kicking is an indication, your son is very healthy."   
  
"Good."   
  
She colored prettily and lowered her eyes, but not before darting a glance at Daniel.  He shifted in his seat, wondering why her words did not bring their customary pain to his heart, and reached for another piece of bread.   
  
The meal was almost over and they were deep in a discussion of Daniel's journey when there was a disturbance at the door.  A messenger, still covered in the dust from the road, walked in and, with a low bow, handed Salaeh a folded piece of paper.  He turned on his heel and left at the wave of her hand, and she held up the paper and smiled sleekly at Yakob.   
  
"From Ibrahim, my brother."   
  
"What does he say, my dear?  Allow Daniel to read it to us."   
  
Daniel took the paper and carefully unfolded it.  Ibrahim must have written in a great hurry to use cheap, brittle paper, rather than parchment, for his letter.   
  
"My dearest sister," he read.  "I am writing in haste, for there are rumors that the king might close the borders, and perhaps even the city gates..."  He looked up at his father.  Yakob's expression was carefully blank, a sure sign that he was worried.   
  
At his nod, Daniel continued.  "The northerners, led by one known as the Hammer, are attacking the border without pause, and General Bourgoulla seems to be incapable of mounting an effective defense.  This is also rumor, for the king's men and the guards imprison those who speak openly of the conflict.   
  
"It is also said that the northerners are butchering the captive men, and raping the women and children-"  Daniel broke off as a small sound of protest, quickly stifled, came from behind him. "...children, and babies, still at the mother's breast, they impale on pikes-"   
  
"Never!" The word was whispered, but it rang through the room like a clarion call.   
  
"Silence!" Daniel barked, his eyes remaining fixed on the letter.  He could feel the shocked gazes of his family burning into him, and his face was hot with shame.  "Go back to my rooms, and I will deal with you later."   
  
There was a rustle behind him as Casey stood, and Daniel continued.  "Many now suspect there are spies planted in our midst, who are sending information to the enemy by various means.  Otherwise, how could our valiant troops be constantly overwhelmed and defeated?  There is even talk of dark spells being used..."   
  
"Stop," Shaul said quietly.  Daniel looked up, surprised to see every face turned toward Casey, standing uncertainly in the doorway.   
  
"Casey, I gave you an order."   
  
"And I would ask that he stay, my nephew."   
  
Daniel turned to Shaul.  "Why?  I will punish him appropriately when I have finished here."   
  
"And I would wish him to stay until we have finished discussing Ibrahim's letter."   
  
With a shrug, Daniel gestured to Casey to resume his seat and returned to the letter.   
  
"There is even talk of dark spells being used by enslaved soldiers to weaken the vigor of our people."  Daniel heard a small snort from Casey and a sour taste suddenly painted the back of his throat.  He did not have to look to know that Shaul's sharp eyes were fixed on Casey.  "And I have heard, my sister, from a *very* reliable source, that the northerners have hidden magicians," he paused briefly, his eyes flickering over the still faces around the table, a small, tight knot growing in his belly, "in with the soldiers, hoping that they will be able to spread their malevolence among the people.   
  
"Take good care of yourself and your family, and commend me to your husband, el-Rydal Effendi.  I would wish for his wisdom and sage advice now.  Your devoted, etcetera..."   
  
The room was silent for a moment, and then Shaul's words broke the stillness.   
  
"Your new slave comes from the north, does he not?"   
  
A drop of sweat trickled down his ribs and Daniel nodded.  "Yes.  You know he does."   
  
"Have I your permission to question him about this news?"   
  
Daniel glanced at his father, who was looking at him with an impassive gaze.  He nodded, a quick jerk of the head.  "Yes."  Turning, he could feel the tension radiating from Casey and met his wary eyes.  "You will answer my uncle's questions truthfully and completely," he said, shifting in his seat so that he could see both Casey and Shaul.  Casey bowed his head.   
  
"What position did you hold when you were captured?"   
  
Hands flexing, Casey stared at a spot on the floor.  "I was a scribe, charged with dispatching orders and writing reports."   
  
"But a scribe is always stationed in the back lines.  How were you captured?"   
  
"The unit to which I was assigned was surrounded," he said quietly.  "I was taken with the cooks and washer women."   
  
"You speak our language well.  And I hear that you are to begin lessons in reading and writing soon - is this true?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"He speaks several of the northern tongues," Daniel added.  "On our journey, we met with some travelers who were able to converse with him."   
  
Daniel regretted his words as soon as he spoke.  Shaul sat up straighter and there was a subtle shifting around the table, a pattern of movement that reminded Daniel of hunting dogs scenting their prey.   
  
"Travelers?"   
  
"Yes. A harmless old trader and his slave."   
  
An unspoken message passed between his father and Shaul, and Daniel's heart beat quickly.  Yakob turned to Casey.   
  
"What did they say to you?" Yakob asked mildly.   
  
Casey's shoulders slumped.  "Only what my Master asked them to.  They explained what my duties would be," he said, blushing.   
  
"I see."  Again the flicker of understanding between Yakob and Shaul, again Daniel's worry increased.  "And what do you know of magic?"   
  
"Nothing," Casey said, his voice flat.   
  
"Nothing?  You would have us believe that?"   
  
"Believe what you will..."   
  
A gasp raced around the table, followed by furtive murmurs.  Daniel opened his mouth, but Yakob held up his hand as Casey continued.   
  
"...I know nothing of magic."   
  
"And what of spying?"   
  
Casey laughed humorlessly.  "I am a slave - how could I possibly be a spy?"   
  
"Do not be insolent!" Shaul snapped.   
  
Taking a deep breath, Casey lifted his chin, and Daniel's heart sank.  "Since it appears I am already judged guilty in your minds of both absurd charges, it does not-"   
  
"Casey!  Silence!" Daniel bellowed desperately.   
  
"-does not matter in the least if I try to defend myself," he plowed ahead.   
  
With a fury born of fear, Daniel whirled around, his hand raised, and struck Casey in the mouth, knocking him to the floor.   
  
"You will *be* *silent*!" he rasped, his voice shaking.   
  
Casey lay on his back, staring at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed.  A thin trickle of blood from his split lip trailed down his chin, and he raised his hand and absently wiped it away, his eyes never leaving Daniel.   
  
"I cannot believe your insolence," Daniel barked, wiping his damp hands over and over in the folds of his robe.  "Father," he continued, turning to Yakob, "it is patently absurd that this hot-headed slave could have the skill and knowledge of a magician, or the craft of a spy."  He stood and walked over to Casey, reaching down and hauling him to his feet.  "He has some little learning, which might be valuable to us, and," Daniel's hand roughly cupped Casey's lax genitals through his robe, causing Casey's back to stiffen, "he is pleasing in my bed.  I ask leave to publicly punish him now for his insolence."  Hardly able to draw breath, unable to meet Casey's eyes, Daniel waited as his father considered the matter.   
  
Casey shifted in his grasp and he dug his fingers into the quivering muscles, holding him firm.  "I will gag you if you speak again," Daniel muttered, swallowing convulsively.   
  
Finally, Yakob nodded.  "My son Daniel is correct.  These rumors of magicians and spies may be true, but here we are safe from all save disrespectful slaves."  He waved his hand.  "Punish him as necessary, and prove your skill as a Master."   
  
"Thank you, Father."  Daniel tugged Casey toward the door.  "Come, slave," he snapped.  With only a murmur of protest, Casey stumbled after him.   
  
Daniel led him to the side of the slave quarters, where a large wooden framework stood.  It was seldom used - the threat of punishment was sufficient for most slaves.  At Daniel's shout, El'yt appeared and handed him the leather collar and bindings that Casey had worn when he was newly purchased.  Waving away El'yt's assistance, Daniel lifted Casey's robe over his head, shuddering as his hand brushed the soft skin of his ass and back.  As he fastened the collar around Casey's throat, he risked speaking.   
  
"You *fool*," he whispered into Casey's ear as his trembling fingers fumbled with the buckle.  "You idiotic *fool*!"   
  
"I thought-"   
  
"It doesn't *matter* what you thought," he said, fastening the binding on Casey's wrist.  "You are a *slave* here."   
  
Casey's hand jerked in his.  "I *know* that."   
  
"Then think of it again!" He shook Casey's arm.  "Don't you understand?  They would *kill* you if they truly thought you harbored magic or spied upon us."   
  
"Kill me?"   
  
"Yes, kill you, you idiot!  I can only hope I allayed their suspicions-"  He pressed his lips tightly together, suddenly aware that his father and the entire household had come to watch.  He knelt and fastened the bindings to Casey's ankles, then bound him spread-eagled to the framework.   
  
Daniel checked that the chain attached to Casey's collar would not strangle him, his fingers brushing lightly over the thin skin on Casey's throat.  He could feel Casey's pulse racing, but Casey stood still, eyes closed, his breath coming in little hitching gasps.   
  
"Master?" his voice broke and he trembled beneath Daniel's touch.  "I am sorry..."   
  
"I, also," Daniel replied, allowing a single finger to trail down his chest before stepping back.   
  
He held out his hand and El'yt placed a heavy whip in his palm.   
  
"No," he said, dropping the whip.  "I would have him learn his lesson, not scar him for life.  I will use the crop."   
  
The surprise on El'yt's face was quickly smoothed over, and he handed Daniel the thin, flexible, leather-wrapped rod.  Daniel smacked it against his leg twice, getting the feel of the crop.  It stung, and he welcomed the sharp pain as payment for his part in this monstrous charade.   
  
Stepping close to Casey again, he ran his hands over the bindings on Casey's wrists, as if checking them.  "This must be seen to be a punishment," he whispered quickly. "I will try to temper my blows, but you must make it sound as if I am merciless.  Cry out, scream, *anything* but silence.  Do you understand?"   
  
"Yes..." It was almost a sob.   
  
Daniel stepped back and placed the tip of the crop against the back of Casey's bare thigh.  He could see the muscles quivering in the torchlight.  "You will receive twenty lashes," he said, loud enough that all watching would hear.  "And you will be confined to the slave quarters until I return.  I will decide if you require further punishment then, depending on the reports of your behavior."  He drew the tip of the crop over Casey's smooth ass and up his spine.  "Do you understand?"   
  
Casey's head dropped forward, but his voice was clear and strong.  "Yes, Master."   
  
Daniel reached out and gathered Casey's thick hair in his hand, pushing it over his left shoulder.  A thin, almost noiseless sigh wrapped itself around his heart, and he jerked his hand away as if it were scalded.   
  
Turning to survey the crowd, Daniel felt the sharp agony of ice running in his veins.  They all had vulture eyes, ravenous for blood...  He looked from his father to Shaul, standing at the front of the crowd, their arms crossed, judges of him, as well as of Casey.  Over their shoulders, Salaeh's cat face and sloe eyes watched him avidly.  He spotted Rebekah's pale countenance among the women and shuddered at her predatory expression and the way her upper lip lifted, exposing her gleaming teeth.  Even the slaves had come to watch, standing in an awkward group to one side.  A shadow at the corner of the building caught his eye - a dark bulk stood there, the breadth of shoulders revealing Guord's presence, even if his face remained hidden.   
  
Daniel set his jaw and whirled, his first blow catching Casey and the crowd unawares.  Casey bit back a yelp as the crop laid a strip across his back, but the crowd murmured hungrily.   
  
"One."   
  
Sweat sprang from his brow and dampened his chest and back as Daniel lifted the crop again, letting it land on Casey's ass.   
  
"Two."   
  
Casey's body gleamed in the torchlight, the marks dark bands across his skin.  Daniel focused on the shifting play of light and shadows across his shoulders as he let fly the next blow.   
  
"Three."   
  
He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, willing his rebellious stomach to settle.   
  
"Four."   
  
By the tenth blow, Casey was crying out and twisting in his bonds, his back and ass cross-hatched with the livid marks of his punishment.  By the eighteenth, he was screaming continuously, but Daniel would not allow him to be gagged.   
  
It seemed forever before, drenched with sweat, his arm leaden and his heart more so, Daniel let land the final blow.   
  
"Twenty."   
  
He dropped the crop and staggered to the back of the slave quarters as Casey's screams subsided into sobs.  He bent over and retched painfully, sweat dripping into his eyes, added to stinging tears.  His stomach empty and his throat raw, he finally straightened an untold time later, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.   
  
"Master Daniel..."  El'yt stood beside him and handed him a cup.  Daniel rinsed his mouth, then drained the cup thirstily.   
  
"Casey?" he asked, his voice hoarse.   
  
"I have taken him to the slave quarters.  He is in bed now, resting."  El'yt hesitated, eyeing Daniel.  "Shall I have a healer attend him?"   
  
Daniel nodded wearily.  "He is to have only light duties until I return."   
  
"Is he to be bound?"   
  
Daniel paused, then nodded again.  "Bindings, but no chains.  He must..." Daniel looked around, but they were alone.  He lowered his voice.  "He must be seen to be punished, but I would not have him injured more than he already is."   
  
"Of course, Master."   
  
Flexing his sore arm gingerly, Daniel started back to his rooms.  "Have Yehah prepare to leave with me tomorrow morning.  I am already packed, and will ride out at first light."   
  
"Yes, Master Daniel."   
  
"And bring me some water to wash," he called over his shoulder, not bothering to wait for El'yt's reply.   
  
Daniel mounted Zeina at first light, Yehah beside him on Salimeh.  His entire body ached, his eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, but he sat tall in the saddle as they rode out of the compound.  He did not allow his eyes to swing to the slave quarters, as they wished to.  But every step that Zeina took away from Casey felt like a knife in his chest, until he looked down, surprised to see his flesh untouched.   
  
"Come," he growled to Yehah as he spurred Zeina into a gallop.  The wind whipped back his hair and cloak, and dried the moisture on his cheeks. 


	23. Chapter 23

Daniel dismounted stiffly, throwing Zeina's reins to the startled stableboy.  He was half-way across the yard when he glanced over his shoulder, tossing a command to Yehah to take his bags to his rooms.  Without even stopping to wash away the dust of his journey, he made his way to the slave quarters.   
  
"Casey!" he called, striding quickly through the dim, deserted building, the sound of his voice echoing hollowly off the thick, whitewashed, mud walls.  "Casey!"  Stepping out back by the privies, he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and sighed impatiently.  Of course Casey would be working.  El'yt had probably assigned him to help the washerwomen, which would keep him busy, but wasn't too taxing.   
  
A brown head peered around the corner, bright eyes regarding him steadily.  "Master Daniel," piped a thin voice as a young girl sidled around the building and bowed low.   
  
"Rasheeda, have you seen my slave, Casey?"  She shook her head.  "Then fetch El'yt for me," he said. "I will be by the washing rocks."   
  
He had gone no more than a dozen paces when he heard El'yt calling him.   
  
"Master Daniel!  Oh, Master Daniel - thank the gods! Wait!"   
  
Turning, he waited as El'yt puffed up to him, his face red and sweaty.   
  
"What is the matter?" Daniel grabbed his arm. "Is it my father?  Has something happened to my father?"   
  
"No, Master," he panted, wiping his face with his sleeve.  "Your father is well.  We were not expecting you so soon..." His voice trailed off and his face crumpled.   
  
"I was able to complete my business sooner than expected," Daniel snapped, giving El'yt's arm a little shake.  "Tell me what has happened!"   
  
"Your slave has disappeared, escaped, Master."  El'yt rubbed his forehead and he trembled.   
  
Daniel pulled his hand away and stared at him.  He felt chilled to the bone, despite the burning sun.  "Casey?  Escaped?"   
  
"Yes, Master."   
  
"Escaped?"  It couldn't be.  Casey would never try such a thing.   
  
"Escaped, Master Daniel.  This morning I put him to work sorting the laundry, and when I went to check on him, he was nowhere to be found," El'yt gabbled, one hand plucking at the front of his robe.  "We searched, but cannot find him - he must have slipped away and hidden himself in the scrub, Master, but it never occurred to me that he would do such a thing!  He has been quiet and tractable since you left, and I did not suspect he planned such an act, else I would have-"   
  
"I do not blame you," Daniel interrupted, holding up his hand. He took a deep breath, and felt the hot prickle of anger beginning beneath his flesh. "How long has he been gone?"   
  
"I noticed him missing before mid-day, Master, so he was only gone perhaps an hour or two before we began to search."   
  
"Where did you search?"   
  
"The main buildings and outbuildings, Master.  Along the path to the river and the road.  Master Shaul has sent some armed men to the fields to look for his trail."   
  
Daniel slowly turned in a circle, regarding the landscape thoughtfully.  His heart was beating wildly beneath his aching ribs, and he wanted to squat in the sand and howl.  Instead he looked at El'yt and asked calmly, "Was he bound?"   
  
El'yt nodded.  "With long, light chains, Master, so that he could work.  We have checked that all the horses are accounted for, so he must be on foot."   
  
"In that case," Daniel said, nursing the heat flaring in his belly, "we should find him soon, and then-"  He snapped his jaw shut and turned on his heel.  "He cannot have gone far.  I will take a few men and look for a trail along the cliff side."   
  
On a fresh mount, with two of his father's most seasoned warriors accompanying him, Daniel rode out of the compound the way he had entered.  Once they were beyond the usual paths, he turned his horse and headed into the scrub, the men following.   
  
"He is wearing chains," Daniel said, "and may find walking awkward.  But he is intelligent and clever, and will no doubt try to hide his tracks.  He has only been gone about four or five hours, and is not familiar with the countryside.  Keep your eyes open."   
  
They rode quietly, Yafez or Iban occasionally pointing to a promising mark on the ground, but which came to nothing when followed.  As the afternoon progressed, Daniel found himself looking over his shoulder, waiting for a messenger to ride up, telling him that Casey had been found hiding in the fields, or by the river...  He could see himself returning to the compound at the news, his horse flying over the ground, to confront a filthy and defiant Casey.  His hands itched to hold him, his lips burned to kiss him into submission, his cock filled with the thought of taking him again and again until he cried out his surrender and acknowledge the truth: that Daniel owned him, heart and soul...   
  
"Master," Iban whispered, putting his finger to his lips, and then pointing to a small shack in the distance.  It was a shepherd's hut, only used occasionally, when the usual grazing grounds were flooded in the spring.  Daniel could see faint marks on the dusty ground leading to the hut, marks that could have been made by chains dragging in the dirt.   
  
They slid from their horses, tethering them to a gnarled branch out of sight of the hut.  Slowly, silently, taking cover when they could, Daniel and the men approached.  Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Daniel rehearsed the words he would use when he found Casey - hard, angry words, which, if Casey proved repentant, would turn into words of forgiveness and absolution.  But not too soon.   
  
There were two doors in the hut, and Daniel gestured for Yafez to circle around and prevent Casey from fleeing in that direction.  He and Iban crept closer.  A sound drifted from the hut.   
  
"Do you hear that?" he whispered, the skin on the back of his neck crawling with atavistic horror, and received a sharp nod in response.  It sounded like...   
  
"Now!" he said, and they dashed to the door, Daniel hitting it with his shoulder and bursting into the hut.   
  
Daniel staggered and clutched the door frame, trying to see in the dimness.  Candlelight twisted and rippled over the shapes before him as a candle guttered in the breeze, and then the stench hit him, the iron-heavy reek of fresh blood.   
  
And the screaming began again.   
  
"Yafez!" Daniel bellowed, and the other door opened, sunlight spilling in, illuminating the inside of the hut in gut-wrenching clarity as Yafez stepped inside.   
  
There were two people already in the hut, Daniel saw, although they...  Bile rose in his throat and he struggled to swallow it, ignoring the acid bitterness.  No...   
  
The figure sprawled over the table writhed and gave a muffled scream, but it could not move far, because...  Daniel squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then opened them, staring at the arm buried deep inside the shaking body.   
  
Casey.   
  
No.   
  
Another scream galvanized Daniel into action.  He sprang forward, his hand and dagger at the throat of the standing figure.   
  
"Do not move," he barked, pressing the tip of the dagger into the soft flesh under his jaw, his hand forcing up his head, "except for your arm, Guord.  Take it out carefully, or I will have Yafez cut it off at the elbow."  His fingers tightened and a red bead trembled at the tip of the dagger, breaking loose to trickle down Guord's throat.   
  
He watched, his stomach heaving, as Guord pulled out his bloody arm. Casey's screams echoed in the tiny room, despite being muffled by the gag.  As soon as Guord's hand came free with a disgusting wet noise, Daniel tightened his grip on his throat.   
  
"Take him out of here," he ordered the men, releasing his hold only when they had a firm grip on Guord's arms. "For I will kill him myself in another second," he rasped, moving to untie the gag at the back of Casey's head. "And he doesn't deserve such a quick death."   
  
Despite his shaking hands, he worked carefully to remove the cloth gag - it had bitten into the corners of Casey's mouth and the blood had dried.  By the time he wadded up the cloth and threw it into the darkest corner, the wounds had re-opened and blood smeared Casey's lips and mouth as he moaned softly.   
  
"By the Prophet's wounds," he shouted as he reached around the rough wooden table, fumbling with the ropes that bound Casey's arms to the table.  Guord had left on the leather wrist bindings and chain and it had tangled with the rope. "I shall flay him slowly and rub salt on his body!  The gods will curse him, and his soul will rot in hell!"  Casey's breath hitched in a sob as Daniel jerked at the bonds, and Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calmness.   
  
When Casey's arms were free, Daniel bent and untied his ankles, resolutely turning his attention to the tight knots.  When he finished, however, his eyes strayed to Casey's gaping, blood-smeared hole and it was all he could do not to charge from the room and slit Guord's throat, leaving his body for the jackals.   
  
"Casey," he murmured, sliding his arm beneath his shoulders and lifting him slightly.  Bruises were beginning to darken on his face and shoulders, spreading along his ribs and back and down his flanks.  "Oh, Casey..."   
  
"Master."  It was a hoarse whisper.  His head lolled onto Daniel's shoulder and his hands scrabbled at the table, the chain stretched between his bound wrists clinking softly.  "Please..."   
  
"You're safe, now," Daniel soothed, helping Casey to straighten up.  "He cannot harm you any more-"  His voice cut off.  "Gods, what did he *do*!"   
  
"Master Daniel?"  Yafez appeared at the door.   
  
"Come, help me get him onto the table," Daniel said, his voice shaking like that of an old man.  "Quickly!"   
  
"One moment, Master."  Yafez unfolded the blanket he carried and tossed it over the tabletop.  Then he and Daniel lifted Casey carefully onto the table.  Casey shook and cried out, his hands fumbling at his crotch.   
  
"Hold his hands," Daniel ordered, unsheathing his dagger.  "That... that son of a jackal has tied his..."  His throat so dry he could no longer speak or swallow, Daniel shook his head and bent over Casey, moaning and squirming on the table.   
  
He gently lifted Casey's lax penis to one side and felt his skin grow cold and clammy as he forced himself to study Guord's handiwork.  A strong, thin, waxed string, generally used for mending tents, was wrapped cruelly around the top of Casey's scrotum and between his balls, trapping them and cutting off the circulation.  Daniel gently touched the swollen, empurpled flesh, searching for a knot.  He eventually found it, but it was iron-tight.   
  
"Casey," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "I will have to cut off the string.  You must not move.  Do you understand me?"   
  
"Yes," he whispered, his hands held firmly by Yafez, his legs shifting on the table.   
  
Daniel leaned over the table, trapping Casey's legs beneath him. He took his dagger and, holding his breath, nicked one of the strings and, accidentally, part of Casey's scrotum.  Casey screamed and tensed beneath him.   
  
"Don't let him move!" he barked to Yafez, who released Casey's hands and covered Casey's torso with his own, his hands firmly holding Casey's hips.   
  
"It will be off in a moment," he said, wiping the sweat from his eyes and rubbing his damp hands on his robe before picking up the dagger again.  This time he managed to cut through one of the strings without touching Casey, and, with fumbling fingers, quickly unwrapped the bindings.   
  
With a wail of pain, Casey fought them as the blood began to flow, reaching over Yafez's back, trying to cradle his crotch and raise his knees.  Daniel watched as the abused flesh gradually changed to an angry red - a healthier color, but Daniel feared that the damage was already done.  If Guord succeeded in gelding Casey, Daniel would ensure that it took him *years* to die and that every second of his life was filled with agony.   
  
Once Casey had calmed somewhat, Daniel lifted himself off of Casey's legs, and signaled Yafez to do the same.   
  
"I have water, Master," he offered, reaching down for the watersack.  "I thought it might help."   
  
"You did well."  Daniel took the sack and carefully slid his arm beneath Casey's head, raising it slightly.  "Drink, Casey."  He dribbled a few drops into Casey's mouth, adding more when Casey swallowed and opened his mouth again.  "Not too much," he said finally.  He dampened the corner of his tunic and wiped Casey's mouth and face gently, noticing the ranks of small, finger-tip bruises marching up Casey's long neck.  He ruthlessly suppressed his unexpected impulse to weep at the sight, and instead cursed Guord under his breath.   
  
"Take off his bindings," Daniel ordered, reluctant to give up the sweet burden of Casey's head and shoulders pressed warmly into his arm.  Yafez quickly undid the heavy leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles and slung them over his shoulder by the chains.   
  
"Casey, we must get you home now.  Yafez and I will help you to my horse."   
  
Casey nodded slowly.  "Home," he whispered.   
  
Sliding his arm out from beneath Casey, Daniel suddenly felt bereft.  He quickly slipped off his outer cloak - Casey would need protection from the sun, as well as from prying eyes - and Daniel had no idea what Guord had done with Casey's tunic.   
  
Between the two of them, they managed to get Casey to his feet, although he shook like a candle flame in a breeze.  Daniel held him up at the doorway, while Yafez went to fetch the horses.  It was not easy to get Casey up onto the saddle with him, sitting sideways practically in Daniel's lap, but they managed.  Wrapping his cloak and his arms around Casey, Daniel flicked the reins and his horse walked sedately back along their trail, Yafez at his side.   
  
Casey's head lolled against his shoulder as they traveled, and Daniel wondered if he had fainted, or if exhaustion had sent him to sleep.  Then his hand emerged from the folds of the cloak and clutched the front of Daniel's tunic in a death grip.   
  
In the distance, he could see Iban on his horse, Guord stumbling along behind him, the rope binding Guord to the saddle stretched taut.  As he watched, Guord stumbled and fell in a cloud of dust.  He could hear Iban's curse as he jerked the rope, waiting impatiently for Guord to rise.  His arms tightened around Casey, and he turned his head away from the scene.  Right now he had to get Casey home safely, make him comfortable, and have the healer see to his injuries.   
  
Justice and revenge would simply have to wait. 


	24. Chapter 24

There was a flurry of activity as they approached the compound, and Daniel urged his horse through the knot of curious soldiers and slaves, holding a shaking Casey closer to his chest.  He spotted El'yt in the crowd and reined in.   
  
"He did not escape," Daniel said before El'yt could speak.  "Guord beat him, and..." He stopped abruptly when Casey's grip on his tunic tightened.  "Send the healer to my rooms, and tell my father to call off the search."  They moved off, Yafez close behind.   
  
Outside Daniel's rooms, Yafez dismounted first.  He stepped beside them and raised his arms.  "I shall take him inside, Master," he said.   
  
Daniel nodded, suddenly reluctant to release his burden.  "Place him on my bed."  He loosened his grip around Casey's shoulders and shifted so that he could slide into Yafez's arms, but Casey murmured uneasily, his fingers holding Daniel's tunic firmly.   
  
"Casey, you are safe now," Daniel said softly.  "But you must trust me and let go.  Yafez will help you into bed, and I will be there in a moment."   
  
Casey lifted his head from Daniel's shoulder, and pain-filled brown eyes searched his.  "Don't leave," he whispered wearily.  "Please, Master."   
  
"I'm not going to leave you," Daniel replied fiercely.  "But you must get down now so that the healer can come and tend to you."   
  
"You will stay?"   
  
"I have said so.  Now, go with Yafez..."   
  
Slowly Casey's fingers uncurled from Daniel's tunic, and he slid, biting back a cry, into Yafez's strong arms.  Daniel quickly dismounted and followed Yafez and Casey into his rooms.   
  
Yafez paused before Daniel's clean bed.  "Here, Master?" he asked, glancing uncertainly at the pallet Casey had used.   
  
"Yes," Daniel replied, pulling the blanket down.  "On my bed."   
  
With a brief nod, Yafez gently laid Casey on the soft linen and stepped back, waiting.   
  
"See that Iban has brought Guord in safely," Daniel said, running his hands gently over Casey, "and then wait outside.  I may need you later."   
  
Yafez bowed and left as Daniel began to slowly unwrap Casey from his cloak.   
  
"No," Casey moaned, his hands feebly clutching at the edges.   
  
"Hush."  Daniel smoothed back the hair that had fallen into Casey's face, his fingers lingering on Casey's bruised cheek.  "The healer is coming, and I want to clean you up a little."   
  
Casey turned toward Daniel's hand and bit back a cry.  "Hurts," he panted.   
  
"I know."  Daniel kept his voice soft, struggling against the rage that whipped through him at the thought of what Guord had done.  "She will give you something to take away the pain, and you'll feel better soon."   
  
"Like-" Casey broke off and swallowed hard. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.  "Like she did after the beating?"   
  
"Yes."  Daniel looked away, remembering the sound of the crop, of Casey's screams, the sight of the marks he left on Casey's flesh.  In some ways he was no better than Guord.   
  
"Forgive me," Casey breathed, reaching out slowly and letting his hand rest on Daniel's arm.   
  
"For what?"   
  
"For speaking out of turn and making you punish me, for not enduring this trial as foretold..."  He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.   
  
"There is nothing to forgive," he replied.  He did not understand what Casey meant by a trial, but now was not the time to question him.  Gently opening the cloak, he forced himself to observe Casey's wounds dispassionately.  By the Prophets, there was so much blood...  His hands shook.   
  
There was a sharp knock, and then El'yt's voice.  "Master Daniel?  I brought water and the healer."   
  
"Good. In here."  He covered Casey with a sheet as El'yt and a slave entered.  El'yt held a covered bowl and a small, lumpy bag, and the slave carried a ewer of warm water.  They were followed by a cloaked and hooded form, which stood quietly in the corner until El'yt and the slave set down their burdens and left.   
  
Daniel looked over at the figure.  "I beg for your assistance.  My slave was assaulted and-"  His voice stopped.  He could not say the words to describe what had happened.   
  
"I will help you."  There was a touch of amusement in the words.  "Again."   
  
Lifting his chin, he spoke harshly. "I had nothing to do with this.  It was another slave."   
  
"I know."  Her voice was suddenly kind.  With a sigh, she threw back the hood and let the cloak drop from her shoulders, shaking her long hair loose and stepping toward them.  "Everyone knows."   
  
"What did Yafez and Iban say?" Daniel snapped.   
  
"Only that Guord beat and tortured Casey."  She smiled kindly at him.  "Do not worry. Guord is bound and gagged.  He will not speak of what he has done.  Now," her smile faded.  "Show me."   
  
"He is in pain."  Daniel's hand rested on Casey's shoulder, rubbing it gently.  "Give him the herbs to ease his pain."   
  
"Not yet."  She stepped up to Daniel and met his eyes.  "I must examine him first.  There are times when it is dangerous to dismiss the pain too soon."   
  
He bowed his head in acknowledgement.  "Very well."  Turning, he leaned over Casey, speaking softly.  "Casey, she must examine you, and then she will take away your pain."   
  
Casey nodded, two tight jerks of his head.  "Don't leave me," he whispered as Daniel drew back the sheet.   
  
Her face paled as she leaned forward, her eyes raking over Casey's body.  Daniel watched her - he could not bring himself to look at Casey too closely - but the faint expressions that crossed her face told him what she saw.  Finally, she straightened and glanced at Daniel, her eyes filled with understanding and pity.   
  
"Fetch me the bowl," she said simply.  "He must be calm before I can proceed."   
  
Between them, they raised Casey enough to drink the infusion in the bowl, although some of it dribbled down the sides, wetting Casey's chin and chest.  Daniel wiped it up, ignoring the blood that stained the white linen.  She poured water into the basin and brought it over to the bed, along with a thick towel.   
  
"Casey," she said, dipping a corner of the towel in the water, "I must clean your wounds before I tend to them.  It will hurt at first, but by the time I have finished, the pain will be gone, and you will sleep."   
  
His eyes sought Daniel before he nodded his understanding, and his hand lifted slightly.  Taking it in his own, Daniel smiled at him reassuringly.   
  
She cleaned his face and neck first, wiping away the dirt, sweat and blood that hid additional bruises.  Working down his arms and chest, every swipe of the towel revealed new marks and more swollen skin.  Daniel sat heavily on the bed by Casey's shoulders and turned his head away, willing his rebellious stomach to settle.   
  
A knock at the door startled Daniel, and Casey's hand jerked in his.  "What is it?" Daniel barked.   
  
El'yt appeared in the doorway. "I apologize for disturbing you," he said quietly, his eyes straying to the figure in the bed.  Daniel could see him grow pale, and then his eyes snapped up to stare at the far wall.  "Your father has asked for you, Master Daniel.  He wishes to receive your report as soon as possible."   
  
"Tell him I will be with him soon," Daniel replied, giving Casey's hand a gentle squeeze.  "When this is finished and Casey is settled, I shall come to him."   
  
"But Master said-" El'yt quickly bit off his protest.   
  
"I must see to my obligations, first, as he has taught me.  Then and only then will I give him my report."  Daniel's voice was cold.  "Tell him that."   
  
"Yes, Master Daniel," he murmured, his round face turning pink.  With a bow, he left, Daniel's eyes following him out the door.   
  
Casey suddenly moaned and shifted, and Daniel knew that she was wiping his swollen crotch.  He stroked Casey's head with trembling fingers until he settled with a sigh.   
  
After a few minutes more, she spoke.  "Casey, you must turn over so that I can clean your back."   
  
"No."   
  
She darted a glance at Daniel and he raised his hand as she opened her mouth.  "Casey," he said, leaning forward and whispering into his ear, "you are safe.  No one is going to harm you while I am here."   
  
"Please.  Don't make me," he rasped.   
  
"You must, Casey.  You must endure this, so your wounds will heal."   
  
He groaned at Daniel's words, but nodded once, and obediently turned on his side.   
  
"Wait," Daniel said, grabbing a pillow and placing it under Casey's stomach.   
  
She nodded in approval. Casey eased over, his body shaking, and Daniel reached down and carefully moved his cock and bruised balls out from under him.  Casey made a muffled noise and buried his face in the mattress. Daniel could only see his cheek - it was scarlet.  He leaned forward and wrapped his arm across Casey's shoulders, murmuring gentle nonsense and words of encouragement.   
  
"I am finished," she finally said, dropping the soiled towel beside the basin, whose water was now red.  Pushing the hair from her face, she picked up the bag that El'yt had carried in earlier and opened it.  Daniel sat up.   
  
"Master?"  Casey's voice quavered, and his fists were clenched.  "May I turn over now?"   
  
Daniel looked at her questioningly, and she shook her head as she delved in the bag.   
  
"Not yet," he replied, stroking Casey's quivering back and shoulders.  "Soon, though."   
  
"Casey," she said, pulling a small vial from the bag, "has your pain lessened?"   
  
There was a pause.   
  
"Yes."  He sounded surprised.   
  
"Good.  I must apply some salve where you are torn-"   
  
"No!" Shaking his head over and over, Casey raised himself to his hands and knees and tried to crawl off the bed.  "Nononono..."   
  
"Casey!"  Daniel grabbed him by the shoulders and held him tightly.  "Casey, she must do this."   
  
"No," he moaned, trying to twist from Daniel's grasp.  "Don't touch me, please, Master, don't let her..."   
  
"Casey."  He ducked his head and met Casey's frightened eyes.  "Would you rather I apply the salve?  Or would you like me to hold you?"   
  
He shook beneath Daniel's hands, and his rasping breaths sounded loud in the room.  "Hold me, please..." he whispered.   
  
"Of course," he murmured, sliding down until he lay flat on his back.  He pulled Casey over him, knees on either side of his hips, his ass raised.  Casey slipped his arms around Daniel and buried his face in Daniel's neck, as he firmly held Casey's legs open behind the knee.   
  
Her face appeared over Casey's shoulder and she gave him an approving nod.  "Hold him tight," she mouthed, and Daniel nodded.   
  
By the time it was over, Casey was moaning and sweating, and Daniel was having trouble holding his legs open - his fingers kept slipping.   
  
Finally she heaved a sigh.  "That's enough for now, Casey.  You can lie on your back."   
  
Daniel helped him over and stood up slowly, stretching his cramped muscles.  She began applying a pungent salve to Casey's crotch as he dozed quietly, and Daniel moved beside her.   
  
"Will he be permanently damaged?" he whispered.   
  
"It's too early to tell."  She shrugged, smearing more salve around his torn wrists and ankles.  "But I think..." she continued, glancing at him, "I think all will be well."   
  
Daniel let out a sigh of relief and covered Casey with a clean sheet.  "Thank you," he said, brushing a kiss over her forehead.   
  
"I will make up another infusion for when he wakes, and will tend to him in the morning."   
  
Daniel picked up her cloak and settled it over her shoulders.  "I am in your debt, Babbe."   
  
"Yes.  I know."  She disappeared out the door.   
  
Daniel stood beside the bed for a moment, staring down at Casey's sleeping face.  The bruises and cuts darkened his fair skin, but the drugs had smoothed out the lines of pain between his brows and at the corners of his mouth.  Daniel allowed himself one gentle touch to the back of Casey's hand before turning and leaving his rooms.   
  
Yafez was waiting outside, as he had ordered, and turned to him with a bow.   
  
"*He* has been dealt with?"  Daniel did not bother to conceal his revulsion.   
  
With a nod, Yafez gestured toward an outbuilding.  "He is there, Master, and two soldiers guard him.  He tried..."  Yafez glanced at Daniel.  "He showed his arm to those who escorted him, and began to describe what he had done, so Iban quickly gagged him."   
  
Daniel struggled against rage for a moment and nodded.  "You both did well.  I will tell Iban so, and inform my father, as well."  Taking a deep breath, he brushed ineffectually at the front of his dusty and bloodstained shirt.  "I must speak with my father and my wife, but I do not want to leave Casey alone.  The healer has given him herbs to sleep, but he may wake.  I want you to stay with him until I return, and if he wakens, assure him I will not be gone long."   
  
Bowing, Yafez entered the door as Daniel turned on his heel and strode to his father's rooms.  His report from the north was not encouraging, but he did not know if his father would find that, or Daniel's insistence on caring for his wounded slave, the more disturbing.  And then to break the news to Aloise...  She would take it hard, but even without knowing the details, there was no way to hide the fact of Guord's brutality, especially not with Salaeh in the household.  She would probably dine off the story for a month. With a shrug to himself he opened the door to his father's rooms and entered.   
  
He was surprised to see his father and brothers sitting in the receiving room, along with many of his cousins.  They turned to him, and although there were smiles on a few faces, Daniel could feel the tension and disapproval in the air.   
  
"Well, Son Daniel, we are *all* waiting for your report."  His father's voice was frosty.   
  
Daniel bowed and crossed the room.  "I beg your forgiveness for appearing late and in my traveling clothes, but I had a pressing matter to attend to."  He sat beside his father, resting his hands on his knees and willing them not to shake.   
  
"And what was this 'pressing matter,'" his Uncle Shaul asked, his eyes hooded.   
  
"My slave, who had been unjustly accused of escaping, had been injured, and required the healer.  As my father has often impressed upon me, I am responsible for my slave's welfare, and I could not leave until I was assured that everything that could be done had been done."   
  
Shaul snorted, but his father nodded gravely.  "Your concern is understandable, if excessive. However, we shall not speak of that now, for have been awaiting your report from the north."   
  
"Of course, Father."  Daniel took a drink from the wine placed before him and quickly gathered his thoughts.  "There are no overt signs of unrest or of a possible attack," he began, "and I was hopeful that my journey was for naught.  But I was able to speak with a few farmers privately, and their tales concerned me enough to hasten my visit and return to you with news."   
  
All of the men were quiet as Daniel described his conversations with the farmers and their reports of sighting movements of unknown men in the northern hills.   
  
"They could be scouting parties for the Hammer," said his cousin Kris, and the others nodded.   
  
"Or they could be tales told by men who wish to alarm us," said Shaul, "and who hope to decrease their obligation to you, my brother."   
  
"Both are possibilities we must admit," replied Yakob.  "What else did you learn, my son?"   
  
Daniel took another drink of wine and tried not to yawn. This would not be over soon. "The drought has affected the farmers in the north, as well..." 


	25. Chapter 25

It was dusk by the time Daniel left his father's rooms, and he paused for a moment just outside the door to take a deep breath and rub his hand over his face.  He was exhausted, and it seemed that this day would never end.  Before he could return to Casey, however, he had to speak with his wife and then see... *him*.   
  
He still hadn't decided on a punishment for Guord. A quick death seemed inadequate, and yet, now that his rage had calmed and was tempered by fatigue, Daniel could not find it within himself to employ the cruelties he had seen or heard of.  With a tired shrug, he dismissed that thought and slowly walked to his wife's chambers.   
  
Her door stood open, and he entered her rooms slowly, so as not to startle her.  He needn't have worried.  She was sitting, very upright, on a cushion facing the door.  N'tale was there as well, and she looked over at Daniel with a worried frown as he stepped inside. When Aloise saw him, she scrambled to her feet with a cry.   
  
"Husband!"  She ran across the room and flung herself into his arms, her entire body shaking.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and lifted her easily, moving across the room to the low seat.  There he sat down and cradled her in his lap, rocking gently and crooning softly, even though he knew she could not hear him.   
  
N'tale rose to leave, but he quietly asked her to remain and she sank back down onto the cushion.  "She has been so worried," N'tale murmured.  "Guord disappeared, and then there were terrible rumors..." She pushed back the dark hair from her pale face and took a deep breath.  "I thought I might be of some use."   
  
"Thank you," he whispered.  "Please stay with her tonight.  I cannot."   
  
N'tale nodded and her frown deepened.   
  
Aloise's thin arms clung to him, her hands kneaded his shoulders as she sobbed.  He allowed her to cry herself out, and when she raised her face, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.   
  
"I was so frightened," she said, blinking to clear her eyes.  "What has happened?  Where is Guord?  No one will tell me anything..."  She swallowed noisily and sniffled.   
  
"There is no need to be frightened," Daniel said, stroking her back lightly.  "I am here, and I will tell you everything. But now you must be brave.  Can you be courageous, my wife?"  He smiled down at her as she bit her lip and nodded.   
  
"Tell me."   
  
"Very well."  He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "For some reason Guord has taken a dislike to Casey.  Today he..."  Daniel paused and cleared his throat.  "He attacked Casey, and hurt him badly.  I have-"   
  
"No!  He would *never*-"   
  
Daniel placed a finger over her lips.  "It is true, Aloise.  I saw him."   
  
"It must be a mistake," she insisted.  "N'tale, tell him!  Guord is kind and gentle.  Perhaps Casey attacked him first, or-"   
  
"No, my dear."  He shook his head.  "It is as I have said.  Now he must be punished for what he has done."   
  
"Punished?"  The color drained from her face.  Her lips quivered and she covered her mouth with her hand for a moment.  "How long will his punishment take?"   
  
Daniel hesitated.  "It is not a matter of time..."   
  
"Not a matter of..."  Her eyes widened. "You are going to..."  Her face crumpled and she struck him on the arm.  "No!"  He pulled back in surprise, and she hit him again. "No!"  He grabbed her wrists and she struggled briefly, shaking her head and chanting "Nonononono..." before burying her face in his shoulder and holding him tightly.  "I hate you," she whispered, as he gathered her close and kissed the top of her head.   
  
"I know."   
  
Dusk had deepened into darkness before he could leave her, still sobbing, in N'tale's care.  Before he left, he had a moment for a brief word with N'tale at the door.   
  
"The rumors are true?" she asked.  "They said your slave was badly injured, and you had to call the healer."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"Will he recover?"   
  
"The healer believes so."   
  
"Then the Goddess was merciful."   
  
He smiled at her.  "Thank you."   
  
"Shall I..."  She glanced back at Aloise.  "When is the execution?  I wish to ensure that she will be indoors until it is finished and his remains have been cleared away.  Unless..." her eyes widened.  "Unless you will leave his body as a warning..."   
  
"No," he hastened to reassure her.  "No, there will be nothing left for her to see.  I do not know exactly which punishment I shall choose, but I will get word to you." He bowed.  "I appreciate your concern, Mother N'tale."   
  
She smiled.  "She is a good child, Son Daniel.  This has been difficult for her.  If you could visit in the morning, that would give her something to look forward to."   
  
"I shall.  Good night."   
  
The moon was bright as he wearily made his way across the compound to the outbuilding where Guord was being kept.  There was only this final task to finish tonight, and then he could return to his rooms, and to Casey. He opened the heavy door and froze, staring stupidly inside.   
  
It was empty.   
  
For a moment he thought he might have mistaken the building in his exhaustion, but no, Guord had been held here.  Guord...   
  
He whirled around. "Captain Naroun!  Captain Naroun!" he yelled, haring across the compound to the guardhouse, his earlier fatigue forgotten.  Flinging open the door, he stood panting for a moment as the guards quickly abandoned their noisy games of dice and cards and stood respectfully.  A tall, weather-beaten man with gray hair stepped forward and bowed.   
  
"Master Daniel.  What may I-"   
  
"The prisoner," he interrupted.  "What have you done with the slave you were guarding?"   
  
The captain frowned.  "We took him to the top of the cliff and left him there, staked to the ground for the animals and tomorrow's sun to find."   
  
"I did not-" Daniel calmed himself with an effort.  "Who ordered this?"   
  
"Master Yakob," he replied, looking worried.  "He sent word that his decree was to be carried out tonight-"   
  
Daniel held up his hand.  "Never mind.  I am certain that you carried out his orders fully.  I have been comforting my wife, and did not receive word of my father's intentions."  With that he turned on his heel and strode down the path.   
  
He was livid.  How *dare* his father usurp his prerogative to punish Guord. The implied lack of confidence stung, as well as the secrecy with which it had been carried out. It was a public insult, and could not be ignored.   
  
Despite the late hour, Daniel turned abruptly toward his father's rooms.  He was a man with a wife and household, *not* some child who could not be trusted to assume his responsibilities.  Guord's fate was *his* decision, not Yakob's, and he would tell his father so...   
  
He paused at his father's door, his hand on the weathered wood.  His father would be in bed now, and would not take being disturbed lightly.  Daniel let his hand fall and took a deep breath, allowing some of his anger to bleed away.  No, nothing would be achieved by waking Yakob at this hour. It would serve his purpose better if he voiced a calm protest in the morning.  And if Guord were alive in the morning, then he could be retrieved and Daniel would still have the opportunity to mete out justice.   
  
Satisfied with his decision, he returned to his rooms.  Yafez was squatting by his bedroom door, and Daniel was relieved to hear Casey's quiet, regular breathing.   
  
"Has he wakened?"   
  
"No, Master Daniel." Yafez stood stiffly.  "He has only murmured in his sleep."   
  
"Good.  You have done well."  He stifled a yawn.  "Now go to the kitchen and tell Rashid to give you some dinner."   
  
Yafez bowed and left, and Daniel slowly walked into his room and over to his bed.  He rubbed his burning eyes and felt as if every joint in his body ached.  It had been a hellish day after a hellish week.  Too little rest, too many people to see, too far to travel, and always the question flowing beneath it all: who can be trusted and who might try to betray them?   
  
A small sound from the bed startled him and his face grew warm. How childish. His complaints were nothing, compared to what Casey had endured...   
  
He stared down at the man sleeping quietly in his bed and his chest tightened painfully.  "Ah, Casey," he whispered, stroking Casey's cheek lightly and then closing his eyes against the burning.   
  
"Master?" The word was barely a breath.   
  
His eyes flew open and he placed a hand on Casey's shoulder when he tried to move.  "Shhh.  Be still."   
  
Casey winced and lay back obediently.  "What time is it?"   
  
"Late.  Go back to sleep."   
  
Rolling to his side, Casey's hand crept from beneath the blanket and tentatively stroked Daniel's thigh.  "Will you come to bed?"   
  
"Yes, of course." Daniel lifted Casey's hand a pressed a quick kiss to the strong fingers.  "First, you must drink the medicine that the healer left.  It will help you sleep."   
  
He fetched the infusion from the chest and helped Casey sit up enough to drink.  By the time he had finished it all, Casey was pale and shaking, and he collapsed onto the pillows with a sigh.  "Master?"   
  
"A moment."  Daniel quickly stripped off his dusty, blood-stained clothes and gave his body a cursory rinse before climbing into the bed with a groan.   
  
Casey slowly rolled to face him.  "I was anxious for you to return," he murmured.  "I missed you."   
  
"And I missed you," replied Daniel, reaching out to gently touch the side of Casey's face.   
  
"I wanted you to..."  Casey colored and took a deep breath, his eyes flickering over Daniel's body.  "I *wanted* you," he admitted hoarsely.   
  
The hard knot in Daniel's chest grew, and he felt as if he were choking.  "Ah, Casey..."   
  
Then he was holding Casey in his shaking arms, carefully cradling him against his chest, blinking back the tears that had threatened for so long.   
  
"Don't cry, Master," Casey crooned softly.  "Don't cry.  Sleep, and you'll feel better in the morning."   
  
Daniel closed his eyes and sniffled once, feeling vaguely ashamed that Casey was comforting him, rather than the reverse.  Then there was a gentle kiss on his cheek, and Casey shifted in his arms for a moment, then stilled.  Daniel sighed and relaxed.   
  
They slept. 


	26. Chapter 26

A finger gently pressed against his lips and he smiled a little, then kissed it.  His eyes flew open at the sound of a chuckle.   
  
"Babbe!"   
  
She leaned over him, her eyes sparkling with humor.  "So surprised? Ah, I'm heartbroken.  Surely you remember my touch?"   
  
He glared at her and his arm reflexively tightened around Casey.  "I thought we had agreed that we would say nothing publicly, Healer."   
  
"This is hardly public."  Her smile broadened.  "And I have said nothing that could not be taken innocently enough.  Unlike you."   
  
With a sigh, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and nodded.  "What do you want?"   
  
Her smile faded.  "It is just after sun-up, and I must look at your slave's wounds.  I am concerned that they heal well."   
  
Daniel's face grew warm.  Of course.  Casey was stirring sluggishly in his arms, and he leaned over and brushed a kiss on his forehead.   
  
"Casey," he murmured, trying not to stare at the dark stains of bruises along Casey's cheek and jaw.  "Casey, you must wake now."   
  
Groaning, Casey turned and began to stretch.  With a yelp, his eyes opened and he froze, grimacing and muttering something in an unfamiliar tongue.  He suddenly turned horrified eyes to Daniel.   
  
"I must..." he scrabbled at the covers.  "Oh, quickly..."   
  
Daniel leapt from the bed and half-dragged, half-carried Casey to the privy, where he sat, shivering, as he relieved himself.  Daniel's stomach churned at the sight of Casey's bruised and battered body, and he spun around on his heel and stared toward the mountains until Casey grunted and tried to stand.   
  
Casey was steadier on his feet as Daniel helped him back to the bed, but his face was pale by the time he lay back against the pillow.  Daniel covered him again, then shrugged on a robe and sat beside him on the bed.  His arm crept around Casey's shoulders, and Casey settled against him with a sigh.   
  
Daniel looked up.  The Healer was watching them intently, and she nodded once.   
  
"Very good," she said to Casey with a smile, but Daniel could see that her eyes remained guarded and cautious.  "I have instructed the cook to prepare broth and yoghurt for you to eat the next few days, and Sifara will wash you and apply the unguents as necessary.  I will return every day to ensure that you are healing well."   
  
Wrinkling his nose, Casey nodded.  "More damn broth," he muttered to Daniel, who stifled a chuckle.  Casey's small complaint did more to ease his mind than anything the Healer could have said, but he hushed Casey nonetheless.   
  
"Sifara is not required.  I will be responsible for Casey's care," he said firmly.  "Please show me what I must do."   
  
"I would not recommend that," she replied gravely.  "Sifara is trained and alert for certain signs of infection that would require additional care.  You do not know-"   
  
"Then you can show me what to look for." He met her gaze steadily and held up his hand when she opened her mouth.  "Do not argue with me about this, Healer, for I will brook no dissention."   
  
"Master, you do not need to-"  Casey twisted around slightly to look up at him.   
  
"Yes, I do."  He pressed his lips tightly together, afraid that they might tremble.  "It is not a matter open for debate."  He slid his arm out from beneath Casey's shoulders and turned to the Healer, raising his chin.  "Show me."   
  
Her face was expressionless for a moment, then she nodded.  "Very well."  She pointed to a small leather pouch on a chest.  "Bring that to me."   
  
Daniel bristled.  "I am not some serving wench, bound to do your bidding-"   
  
"At the moment, you are my student."  Her voice was cold.  "If you wish to remain my student, you will do as I say."   
  
Damn her!  Rage blazed through him.  Daniel narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, then shut it again with a snap.  It was like her to take advantage of the situation, to *enjoy* ordering him about like a novice slave.   
  
Tamping down his anger, he nodded stiffly and retrieved the pouch, handing it to her with a brittle bow.  She accepted it with a grin.   
  
"We might make an apprentice of you yet."   
  
Contenting himself with glaring at her briefly, he folded his hands and waited.   
  
"Well, well, well," she murmured.  "The lion has been tamed..."   
  
Daniel quickly looked up at the gasp from the bed.  Casey's eyes were wide and he was muttering something under his breath.  His hand moved restlessly beneath the blanket, as if he were drawing on the bed linens.   
  
"Are you in pain?" the Healer inquired softly.   
  
Casey shook his head, paused, and nodded once.  "Yes," he admitted reluctantly.   
  
She moved around the bed to sit beside Casey.  "I must speak of your injuries to him," she said to Casey, raising her shoulder to indicate Daniel, "and show him how to tend them. If what we do pains you, or if you have a question, please speak freely." The fine lines at the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.  "A Healer does not stand on ceremony.  To us, both great and small are equal in their needs."   
  
Daniel snorted behind her, but did not speak.  She rose and looked at Daniel, gesturing toward the table. Two steaming ewers and a basin stood on it.  Daniel was startled to see them.  Had he been so deeply asleep that he was unaware when servants approached?  The Healer caught his worried glance and seemed to enjoy his discomfort.   
  
"First, you will wash him carefully."   
  
Daniel nodded and picked up the ewer, pouring an unsteady stream of water into the basin.  His hands shook.   
  
She raised her eyebrows and gave him an impatient nod as Daniel hesitated. "Go ahead.  Or are you reluctant to keep your promise?"   
  
Daniel shot her a glare before he grabbed the basin and the thick cloth beside it, walking carefully over to the bed.  His mouth was as dry as the desert floor, and he willed his hands not to shake as he set the basin down on the floor and dipped the cloth into the warm water.  He was not a coward.  No son of Yakob el-Rydal could be a coward.  For a moment, however, he regretted his offer.  After all, Sifara was experienced in these matters, and she had a pleasant, comforting manner. Unlike her mistress, he thought darkly.   
  
Daniel started when Casey's hand brushed his knee.  "Master?" Casey said softly.  "It is not necessary..."   
  
"Yes, it is," he snapped.  "Do not argue with me."   
  
A furrow appeared between Casey's eyebrows, and he turned his head, facing the far wall.  Casey's mouth settled into a familiar stubborn line, but it did not fool Daniel, and he damned himself for an idiot.   
  
With a sigh of regret, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over Casey's damp temple.  "Forgive me," he murmured.  "I wish to do this, but it is difficult for me to look at your injuries..."   
  
Casey slowly turned his head and Daniel could see the hurt deep in his eyes.   
  
"You should *feel* them," Casey bit off the words, his voice unexpectedly bitter.  "Perhaps looking at them would be easier, then."   
  
Anger warmed Daniel's gut.  How *dare* he!  A slave, *his* slave, speaking to him so...   
  
"Shall I call for Sifara?" the Healer asked, her voice mocking.   
  
Silently he wrung out the cloth, ignoring her question.  He had said he would do this, and a son of Yakob el-Rydal was a man of his word, no matter how distasteful the task.   
  
Casey had shifted onto his side, facing away from Daniel.  Feeling unexpectedly shy - after all, he had seen his slave's naked body many times before - he reluctantly drew down the linen sheet.  Casey shivered once, then stilled, only the sound of his short, fast breaths breaking the silence in the room.   
  
Something hot and unexpectedly heavy had lodged in his chest. Daniel found it difficult to breathe as he reached out and gently wiped Casey's discolored shoulder.  Prophets, he could see the imprint of fingers, hands - marks caused by restraining pressure - as well as those blooms of color from wild blows.   
  
And the man who had done this had been taken from him, as if he were a woman or a child, unable to protect his own property or mete out justice.  His own *father* had done this...   
  
Control, control.   
  
Between clenched teeth he sucked air deep into his lungs, then expelled it with a silent curse.  When he had finished here, he would go to his father and protest his actions.  He was not some green youth, inexperienced and callow, whose opinion was passed over in council-   
  
Casey moaned, and Daniel jerked the cloth away.  His face warmed when he realized that he had been too caught up in his own thoughts, and was rubbing Casey's back too firmly. He dropped the cloth into the basin and clenched his fist, the nails digging into his palm painfully.   
  
By the Sacred Wells, could he not do this simple task?   
  
A hand rested on his shoulder.  "Do not buy trouble, Danni."  A gentle squeeze, a pat, and it was gone.  "Concentrate on the task at hand."   
  
He nodded, surprised at the kindness and understanding in her words, as well as the use of his childhood name, and wrung out the cloth again.  Turning back to Casey, he carefully wiped his bruised ass and legs, then silently helped him onto his back.   
  
Casey stared mutely at the ceiling, only the rigidity of his body and his rapid breathing hinting at how difficult this was for him.  Almost unthinkingly, Daniel began to murmur small words of comfort as he ran the cloth down the long arms, across the heaving ribs, and over the quivering belly.   
  
"Gently, now," said the Healer as he began to wipe Casey's swollen groin.   
  
Daniel shot her a look of exasperation and carefully continued.  He did not need her warning.  It pleased him to see that Casey's testicles, although almost black from bruising, were warm and moved easily within the scrotum.  Casey's cock was also bruised around the base, but the shaft looked healthy enough.  Daniel cautiously pulled back the foreskin to clean the tip, as he had seen Casey do, and was rewarded with a stifled moan from Casey - a moan of pleasure, not of pain - as well as an encouraging twitch from his cock.   
  
His own cock jerked in response, and there was a chuckle from behind him, which he ignored.   
  
After a few more moments, he dropped the cloth into the basin for the final time, and carefully moved the basin back to the table.   
  
The Healer nodded and handed him a small jar.  "Now you will apply this salve to his bruises.  It will help them to heal faster, and prevent the open wounds from becoming infected."   
  
Daniel opened the jar and sniffed the contents cautiously.  It smelled strong but pleasant enough, and he scooped up a small amount of the ointment with his finger.  Casey would not meet his eyes as Daniel smoothed the salve over the bruises on his face, dabbing carefully at the raw places on the corners of his mouth where the gag had cut him so cruelly.   
  
He continued down Casey's body, paying particular attention to all the creases and folds of his groin, and smiled to himself when Casey's cock again showed an interest in the proceedings.   
  
Urging Casey onto his side, Daniel anointed his back and legs, leaving Casey's ass alone at the Healer's silent gesture.   
  
"Well done," she replied when he handed her the jar. Daniel wiped his hand, unaccountably pleased by her mild praise.  Capping that jar and placing it on the table, she dug around in the pouch and emerged with another.  It was a tiny, ivory jar, and she presented it to him gravely.  "We must use the strongest medicine for the most serious injuries."   
  
"Oh, please no," Casey suddenly said, his voice half-choked.  He rubbed his eyes quickly and shook his head.  "Please, do not touch me. Not anymore. Not there..."   
  
"Casey, we must," she said softly, gliding over to sit beside him on the bed.  She lifted his hand and patted it.  "We must do this now, else you will become very ill, and the pain will grow worse."  Daniel was startled at how gently she spoke, how much comfort there was in her words and her voice.  It hardly sounded like the same woman who had scolded him earlier.   
  
With a tight nod, Casey pulled his hand away and slowly rolled onto his stomach, raising his ass with a grunt.  Daniel almost wept at the sight, blinking his eyes rapidly until he had regained mastery of himself.   
  
The Healer stroked Casey's damp hair and shot Daniel an unreadable look before rising.  She reached into the pouch and handed him a thin, polished wooden rod.  A hand-span long, it had a slightly spatulate end, and was rubbed as smooth as silk.   
  
"Use this to apply the salve," she instructed.   
  
He frowned at it.  It was small, yes, and smooth, but unyielding and... cold.  Not something he could use on his...  Daniel shied away from the word that had insinuated itself in his mind.   
  
*Lover*.   
  
No.   
  
*Slave*.   
  
Without comment, he handed the rod back to her and turned to Casey.  He could see the muscles in his back, thighs and ass quivering and twitching, like a nervous horse, hear his near-panicked breaths.  No.  Casey had endured enough.  He would not add to that.   
  
Besides, he knew how to make this as pleasurable as possible for him.   
  
Without touching him, Daniel leaned down to whisper in his ear.  "I promised that I would always make it good for you, and I will keep that promise.  Turn onto your back."   
  
The breaths stopped abruptly, and a brown eye peered at him suspiciously from beneath a tangle of heavy, sun-bleached hair.   
  
"Please," he murmured.  "I will not hurt you."   
  
The eye blinked, and then, with a whoosh of air, the body slowly relaxed.  He helped Casey roll over onto his back, lifting Casey's legs so that he could grab them behind the knee, and tucking a pillow under his hips to raise his ass.   
  
He could feel Casey's eyes on him as he opened the tiny jar and anointed his finger.  He rubbed the back of Casey's thigh and met his eyes, feeling almost shy.  Casey's eyes narrowed, and he briefly managed a small, crooked grin.   
  
The sight of that flash of smile almost undid Daniel's carefully maintained calm, and he lowered his gaze to Casey's abused ass, flinching at the sight of the swollen flesh.   
  
Gently, so gently, he slid his finger over Casey's puffy hole, his other hand caressing Casey's thigh when the muscles tightened.  "Let me in," he crooned, "let me in.  Don't try to keep me out."   
  
Gathering more ointment, he continued that smooth glide over Casey's ass, over and over, each time sliding nearer and nearer the opening.  "Let me in," he repeated, chanting it softly, like those who prayed to the Goddess.  "Let me in."   
  
He could tell the moment that Casey relaxed, and his surrender, his trust, warmed that chilly place in Daniel's chest.  Taking advantage of the lax muscles, he eased his finger inside, spreading the ointment over torn and bruised tissues.  He was prepared for the sight of blood on his finger when he removed it, but still the taste of bile soured his throat.  The Healer handed him a clean cloth and he thanked her with a nod before wiping his finger and dipping it again into the jar.   
  
He spread it twice more, pushing ointment deep into Casey's trusting body, until the Healer rested a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Enough," she said, and there was something, some thickness perhaps, in her voice that made him glance at her sharply.  Her lips twisted into the semblance of a smile and she nodded to him, as if in answer to a question he had not asked.  "You will do well."   
  
He capped the jar and removed the pillow beneath Casey, then helped him ease his legs down and covered him again.   
  
"I shall return in the morning," she said as she pulled the hood over her head and tied the pouch to the thick belt around her waist. Turning to Casey, she continued. "Rest today, and heal.  He-who-loves-you will apply the unguents again tonight, and you will regain your strength soon."   
  
Casey raised his right hand and solemnly intoned an unintelligible phrase, then let his hand fall, ducked his head shyly, and murmured his thanks as she left the room.   
  
Daniel stared after her for a moment, stunned.   
  
"Master?"   
  
Shaking off his surprise at her words, Daniel pulled the robe over his head and washed quickly with the now-tepid water.  "Yes?"   
  
"What was the name she used for you?  'He-who-loves-you...'"  He pronounced the word carefully.   
  
Daniel shrugged and padded naked over to a chest, pulling out trousers and a tunic.  "An affectionate diminutive," he finally replied as he tugged on his trousers.  "The Healer retains her... peculiar sense of humor, despite her important position among the people."   
  
Casey made a noncommittal sound, and Daniel silently finished dressing, tying back his hair and sitting down to pull on his boots.  "I must speak with my father on business this morning, and I may not return until later this afternoon.  I will have Yafez remain with you today, and you may ask him to help you in any way that is necessary."   
  
"Thank you," Casey said softly.  He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath.  "Are you discussing... him?"   
  
Daniel kept his eyes on the scuffed toe of his boot and licked his suddenly parched lips.  "He will not harm you again.  I promise that." 


	27. Chapter 27

Daniel paused for a moment before the door to his father's rooms.  He had come directly from his own, stopping briefly only to give El'yt instructions regarding Casey's care, and to ensure the Yafez would remain with Casey while he was out.  Yafez's presence was necessary for Casey's peace of mind. It had nothing to do with the almost-painful tightening in his chest that occurred as he left his slave.  He was exhausted, that was all.   
  
Tugging down his tunic and smoothing back a strand of hair that had escaped from the thong, he pursed his lips, uncomfortably aware that he was stalling.  Raising his chin, he pushed open the heavy, carved door and walked in.   
  
As Daniel had hoped, Yakob sat alone in his study, reading, surrounded by the remains of his breakfast.   
  
"Father," he said, bowing deeply, waiting for Yakob to look up from the papers he was studying intently.  Possibilities crowded his mind; hopes to which he had not dared give thought.  Perhaps his father would volunteer a reason for assuming Daniel's responsibility in dealing with Guord.  Perhaps he would tender an apology for treating Daniel as a child.  Perhaps he regretted his precipitate actions.  Perhaps... Daniel impatiently thrust aside those thoughts.   
  
With a nod, Yakob finally acknowledged his presence, and gestured for Daniel to sit.  A slave appeared at the door.  "My son will stay for breakfast," Yakob said as Daniel sat. Bowing, the man disappeared.  Yakob frowned at the papers in his hand.  "I am glad you appeared; I was about to send for you," he said.  Against his will, Daniel's hopes rose.  "I am deeply concerned about your report from the north, as well as the news I have received-"   
  
A spark of anger raced through him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to remain calm.  How could he have been so naïve?  Of course his father would not apologize.  Especially not to him, of all people.  The spark grew, however, licking its way through his chest and up his back until it loosened Daniel's tongue. "Before we discuss my report," he blurted, interrupting Yakob, "why did you think it necessary to humiliate me so?"   
  
Breaking off with a startled look, Yakob narrowed his eyes.  "What do you mean?"   
  
His mouth suddenly dust dry, Daniel stared at the low table that separated them.  A small cup of chai, a half-finished piece of bread, and the torn remains of an orange were mixed in with the papers. He licked his parched lips nervously, aware of what he had done, what he was doing.  "You took it upon yourself to punish the slave who had assaulted mine-"   
  
"Ah, that.  Yes."  Yakob's voice was brusque.   
  
"Why?"  Daniel raised his eyes to meet his father's level gaze.   
  
"It was a difficult decision, and it needed to be handled properly."   
  
"Handled properly? But it was *my* decision!"   
  
"Yes, it was," his father agreed quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.  "However, it was imperative that this slave be punished quickly and without mercy.  Any other alternative would be viewed as weakness, by both our friends and our enemies."  Yakob hesitated, as if he wished to continue, then reached out for the cup and drank.   
  
"And you," Daniel began, his voice cracking. "You could not trust me in this."   
  
The cup clinked as Yakob placed it carefully on the table and raised his eyes.  "No, my son," he replied quietly.  "I could not."   
  
"It was long ago and I was a child."  His throat felt as if he had swallowed ground glass.  "A man in body, perhaps, but a child in my heart and mind.  I never meant-"   
  
"No!"  Yakob slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing in the small room.  Daniel jerked back, hardly breathing, and watched the dregs from the overturned cup of chai stream across the table top, staining the papers strewn there.  "You will not speak of it again. *Ever*," his father continued, hoarsely.  "Do you understand?"   
  
Daniel nodded once.  He could not drag his gaze from the man before him, the stranger who had suddenly taken his father's form. Yakob's face was scarlet, and he panted harshly.   
  
"Do you understand?" he repeated.   
  
Daniel's chest ached as if it had been split open and his heart torn from his body.  "I understand," he whispered.   
  
Yakob closed his eyes and ran a shaking hand over his face.  The slave appeared at the door holding Daniel's breakfast tray, his reluctance to interrupt apparent. Daniel numbly gestured for the slave to place the tray beside him, although his throat was so tight he would not be able to swallow.  "Fetch a cloth and clean this mess," he said, mildly surprised that his voice was calm.   
  
They remained silent as the slave cleared the table, neither man looking at the other.  Yakob's complexion gradually returned to its usual olive color, and his hands were steady as he carefully wiped the chai from the stained papers.   
  
When the slave withdrew, Daniel could feel Yakob's gaze rake across him.  "We cannot afford weakness, my son.  We cannot allow even one small chink in our armor, else the enemy will take advantage, and we shall lose all that we have."   
  
Daniel nodded and then hesitated, screwing up his courage.  "I must go see him."   
  
His father did not ask who 'he' was; he merely shrugged.  "When we have finished here, Naroun will send a man with you to show you where he was left."  Yakob spread a piece of paper on the table, his broad, square hands holding it flat.  "In your report, you mentioned..."   
  
Daniel forced himself to listen, to think, to reply coherently to his father's questions about what he had seen in the north.  They consulted a map and he marked the locations where the unknown troops had been seen, but the fingers holding the pen, the hand moving over the paper, belonged to another.  He opened his mouth, but the voice that emerged was the voice of a stranger.   
  
His uncles arrived, along with a few of his cousins, and they adjourned to the larger room to continue their discussion.  Daniel sat at his father's right and spoke of what he had learned and what he thought, and they accepted his reports, heeded his words, and valued his opinions.   
  
And yet.   
  
And yet his father didn't trust him.  His father would never trust him, never forgive him.   
  
The sun was high and silent slaves removed the remains of a hasty lunch by the time Daniel was able to slip away.  He walked quickly to the courtyard and was pleased to see that Rebekah was sitting there in the shade, reading, a small book balanced on her swollen belly.   
  
She glanced up as he strode across the sunsoaked stones that paved the center of the courtyard.  "Son Daniel."  She smiled and held out her hand to him.  "I am pleased that you have returned safely."   
  
He took her hand and bowed.  Her small, cool fingers, so different from Casey's long, warm ones, rested easily in his.  A flash of memory tightened his gut - Casey's hot fingers stroking him, entering him, coaxing him toward completion - and he looked away, afraid that Rebekah would be able to guess his thoughts.   
  
"I came to pay my respects," he finally replied, releasing her hand.  "And to ask if you are still willing to tutor my slave."   
  
She looked at him solemnly, her head tilted to one side.  "Then the rumor that your slave was assaulted yesterday is false?"   
  
"No," he said, his throat tightening as he tried to swallow.  "He was injured and requires rest.  I thought that a distraction..."  His face burned fever-hot.   
  
"I see."  She paused, as if considering.  "It would not be proper for me to tutor your slave in your quarters."   
  
"Of course not," he replied thinly.  "You are quite correct."   
  
"However, if you were there..." She looked at him, one eyebrow arched questioningly.   
  
"I must ride up onto the cliff to witness the perpetrator's punishment," Daniel replied, then glanced at her hopefully.  "I have left one of my father's most trusted guards to watch over my slave.  There would be no dishonor if he were there during the lesson."   
  
"True."  Her mouth settled into a thin line, and, with a sinking heart, he waited for her refusal.  "I shall do this as a favor to *you*, Daniel," she suddenly whispered, her hand creeping out to cover his, "and not for your slave."   
  
"Thank you," he said, raising her hand to his lips and ghosting a kiss over her soft fingers.  "I shall not forget your kindness."   
  
"It is not kindness," she murmured, her fingers quickly trailing over his lips and cheek, brief brushes of heat that set his heart racing.  She had touched him so when they were betrothed, touches full of promise.  Startled, Daniel looked at her face, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, her pink mouth slightly open, her swollen breasts rising and falling quickly as she breathed deeply. "I have dreamed of your touch," she confided, pulling his unresisting hand against her breasts, cradling it to her.  "Night after night, as I have felt your father's hands upon me..."   
  
Daniel jerked his hand away and rose, stumbling against the bench.  "Do not-" he rasped, his throat tightening, choking off his words.  He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the stale, sickly tang of his old despair coat his tongue and taint his spit.  "Do not tempt me so," he ground out, opening his eyes to glare at her.   
  
"I thought it would fade," she said softly, misery plain on her face.  "I thought your father's kindness would allow me to love him as I..."  She looked up at him with pain-filled eyes.  "As I love you, Daniel.  But it does not, and," she rubbed her swollen belly, "and I pray to the Goddess nightly that this could be yours..."   
  
"Enough."  His hands shook and he clenched them tightly. Someone - a servant - appeared in the doorway for a moment, then disappeared. "I am sorry I broached the topic.  I must go."   
  
He turned, and it took all his self-possession not to run from the courtyard.  Her words followed him, however, ringing in his ears, mocking him with impossibilities as he walked quickly to his wife's chambers.   
  
He stepped inside her dark room and looked around, expecting to see Aloise huddled in a corner.  N'tale slipped out from behind a wall tapestry and held her finger to her lips.   
  
"How is she?" he asked, shoving aside all thoughts of Rebekah.   
  
N'tale's face was pale and the thin skin beneath her eyes looked bruised.  "She could not sleep all night, and finally drifted off a few moments ago."   
  
Sighing deeply, Daniel nodded.  "I will not disturb her, then."   
  
"What has happened?" she asked, sinking down onto a low couch with a small grunt.  "Have you decided on his punishment?"   
  
Daniel rubbed his hand over his face, and shrugged.  "He is staked out on the cliffs.  I am going there now."   
  
She nodded.   
  
Impulsively he stepped over to her and bowed low.  "Thank you, Mother N'tale, for caring for my wife as your own child."   
  
Her dark eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, despite her exhaustion.  "Do not worry about her, Son Daniel.  She still loves you."   
  
"Thank you," he said, smiling as he left.   
  
Stopping by his rooms to change, Daniel spoke quietly with Yafez, and was pleased to hear that Casey had slept all morning.  After he pulled on his boots and started out the door, Daniel paused, then turned back to the darkened bedroom.   
  
Casey was sleeping on his side, his cheek resting on his hand, the lines of pain smoothed from his face.  He looked all of fourteen, barely old enough to shave, and Daniel's chest ached at the sight.   
  
He took a step forward, tempted to steal over and drop a kiss on Casey's cheek, but he suddenly remembered the unpleasant task before him.  No.  He shook his head and stepped back. He would finish with Guord before waking Casey.   
  
Daniel walked to the stables, where Iban and two other guards were waiting.  They would show him where Guord had been staked out the night before.   
  
Mounting Zeina, Daniel straightened his back and set his mouth.  The punishment was just, and, if his father had not interfered, would have been his choice.  Being staked out was painful, but death was relatively swift.  Daniel knew of a few men who had survived for three or four days, but most were killed by predators the first night, their disemboweled, gnawed bodies a testament to the pack's hunger.   
  
Iban led the way up the steep, rocky path to the top of the cliff.  They followed a barely discernable trail along the edge for a while, then turned west. The horses were restive, and Daniel peered at the red, dusty soil.  There were paw-prints crossing their trail - jackals and wolves.   
  
"I doubt if we will find him alive," Iban said, following Daniel's gaze.  "It was dark when we left him there, and I could hear wolves in the distance."   
  
"It is as God wills," Daniel replied, touching his heart, lips, and forehead in honor of the One.  The sounds of Casey's cries as he was assaulted rang in his ears, a ghostly tinnitus.  "But for myself, it would be good to hear him scream."   
  
Iban nodded.  "If he is still living, he will beg for mercy, Master."   
  
"Or a swift death," added another guard.   
  
"I would oblige him with that," said Daniel, touching the dagger in his belt.  "It would give me great pleasure to cut his throat."  The men nodded in understanding.   
  
"We are almost there," Iban said as they rounded a group of boulders and picked their way down a dry gully.  "He is-"   
  
Daniel drew alongside Iban and reined in Zeina.  He stared dumbly at the barren stretch of ground before them and felt the world shift.   
  
No.  It could not be.   
  
There were four stakes driven deeply into the red soil, each knotted with a piece of coarse rope.  But there was no body, and the pieces of rope left behind had been cut.   
  
"Are you certain this is the place?" he asked Iban quietly.   
  
"Absolutely, Master," Iban replied firmly.   
  
Rage slammed through him, scalding him, burning his flesh and searing his heart.   
  
"By the Prophet's sword!" he screamed as jerked on the reins and wheeled around to face the others.  Drawing his dagger, he raised it over his head.  "He has escaped!  Find him!"  He pointed to the faint tracks that led out of the clearing.  "*Find him*!"   
  
Iban and the other guards bowed quickly and urged their horses into the brush, following the tracks.  Daniel lowered his arm and looked at his dagger, narrow-eyed.  Guord could not have cut his bonds himself.  Someone had helped him escape.   
  
It was up to him to find them both and kill them both.  Pricking the skin at the base of his thumb, he smeared his blood on the blade and held it up to dry in the sun.   
  
"I swear this for you, Casey," he muttered.  "By the Holy Five, I swear it."   
  
Daniel slid his dagger back in his belt and followed the others.


	28. Chapter 28

A filthy hand offered a limp watersack.  "If you do not drink soon, they will have to carry you across your horse like a bundle of dirty laundry."   
  
Daniel sat up in the saddle with a groan and peered into the dusk.  "Dauid?  Cousin?  What are you doing here?" he rasped, wondering when he had swallowed enough sand to make his mouth feel as gritty as the bottom of a firepit.  He took the proffered watersack and drank deeply, the cool water easing the burning in his throat.   
  
"I've been here since the guard brought news that the slave had escaped his punishment."  Dauid shook his head, his heavy ropes of hair swinging freely.  They were covered with a fine coating of the red dust endemic to the plateau, as were his robe and the usually glossy coat of his horse.  Daniel looked down at his breeches and tunic and was startled to find them as filthy as Dauid's.   
  
"Ah."  Daniel rotated his shoulders and stretched his arms, trying to ease the growing stiffness in his neck and back.  "I hadn't noticed."   
  
Dauid snorted.  "I would have been surprised if you had.  You've had your head down searching for tracks since I arrived."  He twisted in his saddle, looking around the bleak landscape.  "He and his accomplice had all night and half the day to travel and hide themselves.  It's dusk now, and even if you could find their tracks again, you cannot see in the dark like an owl."   
  
"I will call for torches," Daniel began, but Dauid raised his hand.   
  
"The men are exhausted, cousin.  They will search as long as you require them, but would it not be better to return home, eat, rest, and then resume the search in the morning?"   
  
"Has his accomplice been identified?"   
  
Dauid sighed.  "No. It was not another slave - they are all accounted for."   
  
"Did Naroun explain why a guard was not on watch?"  He was grasping at straws, and he could see Dauid's expression darken.   
  
"You know the answer to that question as well as I do.  It is not done."   
  
With a nod and a last, dissatisfied look around the plateau, Daniel suddenly wheeled Zeina and whistled loudly to the searchers.  They paused, their shapes insubstantial in the dusk, like djinn or afreets roaming the windswept wadis.  "Home," he called, and heard echoes of whistles and calls as the word was passed.   
  
"It is for the best," Dauid said softly.   
  
Daniel met his eyes and held them until Dauid looked away.  "I will forget that you said such a thing," he replied, just as softly.  "The honor of the el-Rydal's has been stained, and unless we can... unless *I* can redeem it, its loss will haunt us all."  Not waiting for Dauid's response, Daniel spurred Zeina toward home.   
  
By the time he had stabled Zeina and ensured that she was well-tended, Daniel was dropping with exhaustion.  He stumbled on the way to his rooms, too tired to eat, too tired to report to his father.  All he wanted to do was to strip off his filthy clothes, wash the dust from his body, and tumble into bed.   
  
He took two shambling steps into the room and stopped.  The lamps had been lit, and their wavering, guttering light illuminated Casey, sprawled across the cushions, fast asleep.  The table before him was strewn with scraps of paper, pens, and an inkpot.  Casey's bruised cheek rested on his arm and his thick, heavy hair had pulled free from its binding and flowed like honey down his back and over his shoulders.  His fingers were curled around a small, leather-bound book, and the bandage around his wrist peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his dark robe.   
  
Indignant, Daniel rubbed the sudden dampness from his eyes.  He was a man, by the prophets, not some sniveling girl.  He should be... He *was* pleased that Rebekah had honored her promise, and that Casey had felt well enough to rise and have his lesson in the main room.  But...   
  
"Casey."  His voice sounded loud in the still room. "Where is Yafez?"   
  
A grunt and a snort, a thud as the book slipped from his fingers, and Casey levered himself up onto one hip.  "Master," he mumbled, blinking owlishly.  "You are back."   
  
Despite his fatigue, Daniel smiled and felt some of the day's tension bleed away.  "I am back," he agreed, looking around.  "Where is Yafez?"   
  
"I sent him to fetch dinner..."   
  
"You did what?"   
  
Casey suddenly jerked back and stared, wide-eyed, at Daniel.  "Did you find him?" he whispered.   
  
"Not yet.  We will continue our search tomorrow."  Daniel took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead, fighting the exhaustion that made thinking an effort and movement almost impossible.  "Yafez was given orders not to leave you."   
  
"I know," said Casey thinly.  "He told me that at some length."   
  
"Did he also mention that he would be punished for disobeying my orders?"   
  
"He did not have to tell me that.  But I told him that I am your primary slave, and that, in your absence, I speak on your behalf. He could not argue with that.  So, since I was responsible for sending him away, any punishment should rightly be mine." Casey looked at Daniel calmly.   
  
Daniel sighed.  He was too tired for this; his temple throbbed and his very bones ached.  "Why did you do it, then?"   
  
Casey's eyes fell as he shifted on the cushions, wincing as he moved.  "I wanted... I needed a few minutes alone, to study, to pretend..." His voice trailed off.   
  
What could he say to that?  After what Casey had endured for the past fortnight, it was no wonder he wanted to have a moment to himself, to pretend, for even a short while, that he was not a slave.   
  
However, it was his duty to punish Casey for his presumption, for clinging on to vain hopes and countermanding his order.  His duty as Master, as Daniel, son of Yakob, as an el-Rydal.   
  
He looked down on the man before him, and none of that mattered.   
  
"Is there any hot water?" he asked as he stretched.   
  
"Hot water?"   
  
"Yes.  Is there any hot water, or will I have to send for it?"   
  
"There is hot water."   
  
"Good." He rubbed his back, suddenly feeling twice his age.  "And now I will wash, eat, and sleep, for we continue searching at first light tomorrow."   
  
"Do you...  Do you think you will find him?"   
  
"Yes," Daniel replied, trying to color his voice with certainty. He was not deceived by Casey's attempt at nonchalance. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Casey," he said, heading for the bedroom.  
  
"I'm not afraid."   
  
"I never said you were."  Daniel began to strip off his clothes.   
  
"He took me by surprise when I was bound," Casey said, and Daniel looked up, startled to see him standing, leaning heavily against the doorframe.  "He hit me on the head, then nearly choked me.  Otherwise, he never would have-" His voice cut off abruptly and he turned his head to stare fiercely at the corner.   
  
"No, he wouldn't."  Daniel ached to reach out and fold Casey in his arms, but he did not move.   
  
"I was taught to fight by some of the best warriors in the kingdom." Casey wrapped his arms tightly around himself. "And although I'm not a warrior myself, I have proven my skill in fair combat."  He glanced sharply at Daniel, as if daring him to disagree.   
  
Daniel could see him shivering from across the room and gestured to the bed.  "You are still recovering from your injuries.  You need to rest."   
  
"I have done nothing *but* rest all day," he mumbled, but he moved obediently to the bed and slowly stretched out.   
  
"Tell me about your lesson," Daniel said, removing the last of his clothes and washing his arms and chest.   
  
"My lesson..."  Casey's voice was suddenly husky.  "The lesson was interesting, and Mistress Rebekah is a patient teacher."  When Daniel bent over to wash his legs, Casey made a low, hungry sound.   
  
Ignoring him, Daniel finished washing and shrugged on a clean robe.  He felt better now that he was clean, and his stomach rumbled loudly.  Casey laughed, an unexpectedly carefree sound that renewed the ache in Daniel's chest.   
  
"Your dinner should be here soon."   
  
"How did you know when I would return?"   
  
Casey snorted.  "Because it was growing dark, and you would not be foolish enough to try to search in the blackness."   
  
"Of course," Daniel replied, turning away as his face warmed at the memory of his argument with Dauid.  He caught sight of the small jars the Healer had left and a small tendril of heat lodged in his belly. "After dinner, I will apply the medicine again."   
  
"That is not necessary.  When it was obvious that you would not return until late, I asked Sifara to do so."   
  
"I see," he nodded, hiding his disappointment.  He heard the outer door open and practically staggered at the sudden, overwhelming smell of food.  "Ah, dinner..."   
  
As Casey's papers were cleared and the food was set out on the table, Daniel commended Yafez while ignoring his nervousness, and then dismissed him.  He ordered Casey to eat his broth and yoghurt in bed, and ensured that his wine was well-watered.   
  
Daniel sat and ate quickly, appeasing the sharp edge of his hunger.  His eyes caught the small pile of paper scraps that had been fanned out over the table, and he picked them up, curious.   
  
They were practice sheets, like Aloise's.  The alphabet, a few words, crudely rendered: horse, book, wine, bread. Obviously Casey's first attempts. He turned over the last one and frowned at it.  The letters were carefully formed, despite the occasional blotch and wavery line, and the effort Casey had taken was clear.   
  
Master.   
  
He downed the rest of his wine and slowly stood, exhaustion slamming into him.  The slave began to clear the table as he walked stiffly to the bedroom.  Casey had finished his broth and yoghurt and was dozing on the bed.  His eyes fluttered open as Daniel yawned and then stretched, groaning.   
  
"Good night," he murmured, his eyes closing again.  His robe lay on the floor, and he tugged the blanket over his bruise-mottled shoulder.   
  
Daniel pulled off his own robe and tumbled into bed.  With a hasty kiss to the back of Casey's neck, he curled close behind him and slept. 


	29. Chapter 29

The warm mass beside him shifted and he tightened his grip on it.  His eyes flew open at the hiss of pain and he jerked his arm away.  It was still dark outside, and the small lamp Daniel had left burning threw monstrous, wavering shadows across the walls.   
  
"I'm sorry," Daniel whispered, his words almost inaudible under Casey's rapid panting.  He raised his hand and gently ran his fingers down the side of Casey's damp face.  "I didn't mean to hurt you..."   
  
Casey nodded, his eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed together.  "I know."   
  
Daniel's hand hovered uncertainly over Casey's chest for a moment.  He suddenly rolled over and scrambled out of bed.  "Let me apply the salve.  That will ease the pain."   
  
"Do you have the time?  You are to begin searching at first light..."  Casey's voice was tight with pain.   
  
"I will make the time," Daniel replied briefly.  He collected the jars and returned, slowly drawing back the sheet from Casey's body before sitting on the edge of the bed.   
  
"Tell me when it pains you," he said, resting his hand on Casey's shoulder and kneading it gently.  Casey nodded and rolled to his side away from Daniel.  Working swiftly and carefully, Daniel anointed Casey's back and legs, then helped him roll onto his back.  He applied more ointment to Casey's face, neck and chest, lingering a little longer than strictly necessary on Casey's flat stomach as he surveyed his bruised groin.   
  
The flesh, although dark and still swollen, looked healthy enough.  When he began to apply the salve in long, lingering strokes over Casey's cock, Casey groaned and his cock jerked in Daniel's hand.   
  
"I am glad to see your response," Daniel said softly, continuing his stroking and moving his other hand to gently cup and finger Casey's balls.  "It is a good sign."   
  
Casey's eyes fluttered shut and he shifted restlessly under Daniel's ministrations.  "So good," he murmured.  "Your hands feel so good."   
  
"Shall I continue?" Daniel asked, keeping his grip light and his strokes even.   
  
"Please."  Casey's breath hitched, and he moaned as Daniel tightened his fingers slightly.  "Oh..."  Suddenly he opened his eyes and wriggled on the bed.  "Wait, wait, please..."   
  
Daniel stilled his hands.  "Does this pain you?"   
  
"No!"  Casey grimaced and drew his legs up, forcing Daniel to release him.  He clasped his hands behind his knees and spread his legs wide.  "Put the medicine in me, please," he begged.   
  
Daniel looked dubiously at Casey's ass, still puffy and red.  "Are you certain?"   
  
"Damn you!" he said harshly, shifting his hips, making his cock sway heavily. "Don't leave me like this!"   
  
Daniel opened the small jar and scooped up some ointment with one hand.  He wrapped his fingers around Casey's cock again, but hesitated before touching Casey's ass.  "I will not hurt you."   
  
Casey glared at him.  "I know that.  You promised to make it good for me - keep your promise!  I want to remember pleasure, not pain..."   
  
His voice trailed off into a moan as Daniel brushed his finger against Casey's ass.  Gently, ever so carefully, Daniel slid his ointment-slick finger inside Casey. His own cock was hard and twitched in his lap, but he simply shifted on the bed and continued to stroke him both inside and outside.   
  
It did not take long before Casey suddenly threw back his head and orgasmed in long, shuddering spurts, his moan of completion muffled as he turned his face into a pillow.   
  
Daniel's hands stilled as he watched Casey slowly relax beneath him.  A small, sweet smile blossomed on Casey's face.   
    
"You were right.  It was good."  He took a deep breath, releasing it with a groan as Daniel slid his finger out.  "Thank you."   
  
Daniel felt his face grow warm and he quickly rose, wiping his hands on the cloth beside the basin.  His swollen cock hung heavily between his legs and he glanced at it, frowning.   
  
"Master," Casey said softly, yet firmly.  "Come here."   
  
Daniel looked at him for a moment and then obeyed.   
  
The walls were faintly stained with the pearly gray light of early morning by the time Daniel clutched the sheets in his damp hands, arched his back, and cried out in release.  He closed his eyes and drew in a long, shuddering breath, too exhausted for the moment to do anything else.   
  
A soft chuckle from the bottom of his bed roused him sufficiently to open his eyes and attempt a glare at the grinning man kneeling between his wide-spread legs.   
  
"I could have you punished for that," he croaked, his throat as dry as the dusty soil of the plateau.  He tried to remain solemn, but the corners of his mouth drew up in the face of Casey's unrepentant smile.   
  
"For what?" Casey replied, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes.  "For this?" he asked, gently squeezing Daniel's softening cock.  "Or this?"  He twisted the fingers deep inside Daniel, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure up Daniel's back and down his shaking thighs.   
  
"For tormenting your Master," Daniel gasped, shifting restlessly under Casey's teasing hands.   
  
"Then I must stop."   
  
Daniel shuddered as Casey released his cock and slowly pulled his fingers free.  By the Holy Five, he wanted more of Casey inside him than a few fingers.  The force of his desire for this worried him briefly, but he set aside that thought and held open his arms.   
  
Immediately growing solemn, Casey crawled up the bed and lay beside Daniel, resting his head on Daniel's shoulder.   
  
"When will you leave?" he asked, his free hand ghosting over Daniel's shoulder and chest, creating warm trails over his sensitive skin.   
  
"Soon."   
  
"Let me go with you."   
  
Daniel dropped a kiss on his forehead.  "You are not well enough to ride yet."   
  
"I will manage."   
  
"You can barely walk," he said softly.  When Casey did not reply, he continued.  "We might be searching until sunset again.  You do not have the strength-"   
  
"Strength?"  His laugh was as bitter as gall.  "What do you know of my strength?  I survived capture and endured-"  He broke off suddenly.   
  
"I know some of what you have endured."  Daniel's arms tightened, and he could feel the tremors passing through the body of the man beside him.  "And I've seen the depth of your strength-"   
  
"You know nothing," he whispered.  "You've seen nothing."   
  
Daniel continued adamantly.  "But even the strongest man must rest after injuries such as yours.  Casey, please."  He pulled away and peered into Casey's angry eyes.  "I could not search effectively if I were concerned about your welfare."   
  
Casey returned his gaze, holding it for a long moment, then his eyes flickered and fell.  He nodded.   
  
"I will send word as soon as we find him.  And you will rest and regain your strength."  He pressed himself shamelessly against Casey's body until the raw hunger of wanting him gnawed at his gut.  With a frustrated, stifled sigh, he pulled away and rolled out of bed.   
  
"Ilmarinen protect you, Daniel el-Rydal," Casey whispered, naming one of his strange gods.  "And bring you back safely."   
  
Something hot and heavy lodged itself in Daniel's chest, something that wound itself tightly around his ribs and lungs and heart. He suddenly realized it was now a part of him, and he would not be able to tear it from his flesh.   
  
Nor did he wish to.   
  
With a brusque nod, he quickly dressed and left.  He stopped by the kitchen for some bread and joined the others at the stable.  Zeina was already saddled for him, and he was pleased to see Kris and Guill and Dauid there, waiting.   
  
They had searched a large area of the plateau the day before, following faint trails that faded out infuriatingly.  Daniel leaned over Zeina's neck and contemplated a partial hoof-print at the edge of a path through the underbrush. Whoever had helped Guord escape was no stranger to the area, or no stranger to that sort of rescue.  Straightening, Daniel surveyed the broken landscape and stifled a sigh.  There were too many places for a man to hide... But far fewer for two men with a horse.   
  
He turned to Dauid and jerked his head toward the north.  "They must have headed for the wadis.  There is no trace of them to the west or south."   
  
Dauid nodded slowly.  "Then they are either very brave or very foolish."   
  
"Or both."  Shooting him a sharp glance, Daniel wheeled Zeina around and shouted out his new instructions.  One or two of the men paused and looked at him, their faces carefully blank, but as a body the searchers began to make their way to the north.   
  
They spent hours picking their way carefully through the tumbled rocks and crumbling soil along the steep cliff sides, peering into shadowed clefts and culverts, searching.  Two horses were lamed by careless steps on the shifting rubble, and young Hussif was thrown from his stumbling mount and was only saved from tumbling to his death by Guill's quick reflexes and strong arm.  Unfortunately, Hussif's horse broke its leg and had to be killed on the spot.   
  
Daniel looked down on the steaming body of the horse, the blood from its slit neck pooling briefly on the rust-colored soil before soaking into the dry earth, leaving only a dark stain.  More blood, more pain that he could blame on Guord.   
  
Daniel looked forward to killing him when they found him.   
  
A shout rang out through the barren cliffs early in the afternoon, when the sun bore down on them mercilessly and the shadows had retreated to thin slivers of black.  Daniel wiped the sweat from his forehead and urged Zeina northwards, toward the broken edge of the cliff.  That was the most treacherous area, crumbling earth crossed with deep defiles, where every step must be accurately judged.   
  
A small knot of searchers had already collected at the edge of the cliff by the time Daniel arrived.  He quickly dismounted and made his way to where Kris stood, the men parting to let him through.   
  
Kris looked at him for a moment, then nodded in answer to his unspoken question.  "They are here.  Or rather, there."  And he gestured beyond the crumbling cliff edge.   
  
Daniel carefully took one step and craned his neck.  There, sprawled at the base of the steep precipice, was the broken body of a horse, and beneath it...   
  
He straightened quickly.   
  
"Is there a way down?"   
  
"No, cousin."  Kris frowned and shrugged.  "It is a blind wadi, and the cliffs are too fragile for a man to descend."   
  
"It is obvious that the jackals have been at them," he replied. "There must be some passage."   
  
"None large enough for a man."   
  
"What if we used a rope and lowered him down?"   
  
Kris shook his head.  "He would still bring the earth down upon him."   
  
Daniel returned to the edge and shaded his eyes, squinting into the shaded canyon.  "They are dead, then," he said, strangely calm.  "Allah has administered justice, and they must remain where they fell, eaten by the beasts of the night."  He turned to Dauid.  "Send the men home.  We must discover the identity of his accomplice in some other way."   
  
He had remounted Zeina and had turned toward home before he breathed a sigh of relief.  True, he had not been the instrument of Guord's death, but Allah's will could not be denied or forestalled.   
  
And Casey was safe. 


	30. Chapter 30

Daniel breathed a shaky sigh of relief and scowled.   
  
Casey was sitting at Rebekah's feet in a shaded corner of the women's courtyard, his head buried in a book, his finger slowly tracing the words as he sounded them out. Yafez hovered nearby, looking extremely bored. Daniel stepped into the courtyard.   
  
Rebekah nodded and looked up, her expression rapidly changing from grudging approval to startled delight. "Dani-- Son Daniel!"   
  
He smiled at her, but his eyes were on Casey, who blinked owlishly at him from where he knelt, the book in his hand forgotten. Daniel strode across the sunlit stones to them.   
  
"Master," Casey said quietly as he slowly got to his feet, wincing, and holding on to the bench for support. "Did you-"   
  
"He is dead."   
  
Casey squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and mumbled something Daniel could not quite hear. His right hand moved, his fingers drawing a brief but complex pattern in the air. His face was pale, but his eyes were hard when he opened them and looked at Daniel.   
  
"Did you kill him?"   
  
"No." Daniel shook his head. "Allah exacted justice and retribution. I did not have to interfere."   
  
Casey's expression softened, and he nodded. "Good. Allah is kinder than Ilmarinen."   
  
Daniel shrugged. "Perhaps. Now I must bathe and report to my father-"   
  
"And have you no words for me?" Rebekah frowned up at him.   
  
"Of course," Daniel replied, trying to smile and finding it strangely difficult. "I am deeply obliged to you for the kindness you have shown to Casey-"   
  
"That is not what I meant, and you know it," she said softly, and turned to Casey. "Your lesson is finished for today. Take the books back to my room, and return to your Master's quarters." She turned back to Daniel and smiled.   
  
Casey hesitated and looked at Daniel. He nodded and gave Casey a gentle smile, wondering briefly why it should be so easy to do so. "Do as Mother Rebekah says, Casey. I must wash before I report to my father, and I will require your assistance."   
  
Without a word, Casey carefully gathered up the books and slipped out of the courtyard, Yafez at his heels.   
  
"How is Casey doing?" he asked quickly.   
  
"Well. He is intelligent and quick to learn, as you said." Rebekah patted the bench next to her and tilted her head, her lips curving in a knowing smile. "Come and sit beside me, Daniel, and let us speak of other matters."   
  
"Forgive me, Mother," he replied, ignoring her inviting look and making little effort to hide the impatience in his voice. "My father awaits my report. I hope that I will see you at dinner." He bowed his head and turned, and was half-way across the courtyard before she could reply.   
  
"Daniel!"   
  
He faced her, surprised at the sight of her pale face and compressed lips. She did not continue, however, and after a moment, he left.   
  
Casey was waiting for him in his bedroom, along with two steaming ewers and a clean thobe.   
  
Yafez hovered by the doorway, and Daniel nodded to him.   
  
"You may return to Captain Naroun, now. You have discharged your duties faithfully and well, and I shall commend you to him."   
  
"Thank you, Master Daniel." He bowed and was gone.   
  
As he stripped out of his sweaty clothing, Daniel watched Casey carefully. He moved gingerly, but already the swelling on his face was subsiding, and the bruises were entering their most colorful phase. But there was a liveliness and sparkle in his eyes that had been absent since the attack, an expression that Daniel had, unknowingly, missed. A tight band in his chest loosened, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.   
  
"Are you well, Master?" Casey asked quietly as he spread out the towel for Daniel to stand on and gathered up his dirty clothing.   
  
"Yes, of course." Daniel's voice was brusque, and Casey's head snapped up, his face pinched. Regretting his abrupt tone, Daniel smiled a little, and Casey relaxed again. "I am tired and not looking forward to speaking with my father, that is all."   
  
Casey nodded and wet the cloth, smiling shyly as he looked at Daniel, standing naked before him.   
  
"I will wash myself," Daniel said, holding out his hand for the cloth. "Go rest on the bed."   
  
Lips tightening, Casey handed him the cloth and limped to the bed, stretching out with a muffled groan.   
  
"Mother Rebekah says that she is pleased with your progress." Daniel scrubbed himself quickly, feeling more comfortable as the grime and sweat of the day disappeared. "As am I."   
  
Casey mumbled something and Daniel glanced at him, surprised to see color wash over his face. "What did you say?"   
  
Rolling onto his back, Casey stared at the ceiling. "I said that it was easy for me. Once Mistress Aloise and Mistress Rebekah showed me the way the letters are formed, I was able to puzzle out the words." He paused. "I have done this sort of work before," he added quietly.   
  
Daniel nodded, half to himself, remembering el-Yafe's remark that Casey spoke several of the northern tongues. Daniel hesitated to call them proper languages, but conceded that it was a difficult enough task regardless. El-Yafe had also asked if Daniel wished to know about Casey's life before his capture.   
  
He certainly did.   
  
Bending over, he rinsed his hair and stood, wringing it out into the basin. "Tell me about it."   
  
"About what?"   
  
"About when you have puzzled out other tongues."   
  
Casey was quiet, and Daniel was about to ask again when he sighed and folded his handed behind his head.   
  
"There is nothing to tell. I was interested in learning Pohrussky and Gaulish, and taught myself to speak and read them."   
  
Daniel rubbed the towel over his hair. "You were a scholar, then?"   
  
Casey snorted. "Oh, yes. I was the Qu-- I was a scholar."   
  
"What other-" Daniel began, breaking off suddenly. The time. He must hurry. Pulling on his thobe, he grabbed his brush from the table and tossed it to the bed. "Help me with my hair, Casey. I must dine with my father, and he will not be pleased to be kept waiting." He glanced at Casey as he slowly stood. "Are you well enough to attend me?"   
  
"Yes." Casey's fingers were warm on his neck as he gently smoothed Daniel's hair and bound it back.   
  
"Are you certain?"   
  
"I'm certain."   
  
"You are not too tired or sore?"   
  
Chuffing out a small laugh, Casey shrugged. "I am both tired and sore, but most of all, I am bored." His eyes darted to Daniel, then to the floor. "And I will keep my mouth shut. I have learned my lesson," he continued, softly.   
  
Daniel tied on his sandals and gave Casey an assessing look. "Come here." He pointed to a spot immediately before him.   
  
Startled, Casey checked his thobe and patted his hair, then stood where Daniel had ordered. "Yes?"   
  
"Yes, *Master*," Daniel replied solemnly.   
  
"Yes, Master." A small crease formed between Casey's brows.   
  
Daniel rested his hands on Casey's shoulders and leaned forward, kissing him gently. Casey stiffened, but when Daniel ran his tongue over his lips, begging entrance, he suddenly groaned and grabbed Daniel, pulling their bodies together. Casey's mouth opened and their tongues touched, gliding together.   
  
Daniel's fingers tightened and he rubbed his throbbing cock against Casey's stomach. By the Prophets, there was nothing in the world as good as this, unless it was being buried deep inside Casey's writhing body...   
  
With a strangled chuckle he pulled away. "Enough."   
  
Casey narrowed his eyes and licked his wet lips. "Never enough," he said, his voice husky, his hands tracing warm patterns over Daniel's back and hips.   
  
"I must not be late," Daniel replied, stepping back reluctantly, "and if we continue this, I shall be."   
  
Casey tilted his head inquiringly. "When shall we continue this?" His hand brushed over Daniel's swollen cock.   
  
Giving Casey a rueful grin, Daniel pressed his hand harder against his crotch, and then pulled it away. "Later," he said, kissing Casey's fingers. "But first I must survive dinner..." 


	31. Chapter 31

Daniel walked into his father's rooms, Casey at his heels, just as Yakob, Shaul, Benyamin, and several of his cousins gathered around the table. Servants were setting out platters and bowls of food, Yakob was smiling at Benyamin's words, and Guill and Dauid wore solemn faces as they talked in the corner. Several principle slaves stood respectfully by the door, their hands folded and eyes downcast. None of the women were there. So, it was to be business only. That suited Daniel.   
  
For a moment, all eyes turned to them and there was a brief silence. Daniel crossed the room, not looking to the right or left, until he stood before Yakob. He could feel the heat pouring from Casey, could picture in his mind the flush that darkened Casey's fair skin, but he did not pause.   
  
"Father," he said with a bow.   
  
His father's eyes flickered over his shoulder and his face was carefully blank. He was looking at Casey, taking in Casey's battered face. Daniel was surprised - Yakob was never unnecessarily cruel with slaves, but neither did he particularly concern himself with them.   
  
"The slave being punished is dead," Daniel said, "along with his rescuer."   
  
Yakob turned brusquely to Daniel. "Who dared to ignore my sentence?"   
  
"I do not know, yet. They are at the bottom of a wadi along the north face, and we cannot descend to identify him, even if the jackals left us enough to do so."   
  
Yakob's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Then there is nothing else to do, except discover who this rescuer was. I will tell Naroun to have his men identify all who were traveling through our land and send back word of any missing men in the farms and villages." He turned to the table and settled himself at the head. The others spread themselves around the table, in order of rank, the principle slaves sitting silently behind their masters.   
  
Daniel hazarded a quick look at Casey. Yes, his bruised face was pink, probably from embarrassment and humiliation combined, and yet he sat quietly on his cushion, the very picture of a dutiful slave. Then he raised his eyes to Daniel, and for one earth-shattering moment all his passion and want poured out, slamming into Daniel, overpowering his defenses, until Casey lowered his eyes again. Daniel turned away, dizzy with possibilities, his heart racing, and stared at a platter of stew being held before him.   
  
He was lost. Completely and totally lost.   
  
He struggled to focus on the conversation, knowing that his opinion would be sought, his comments valued. By all, save the man whose approval he most desired.   
  
No, that was not fair. His father would listen to him and judge his opinions on their merits. But he would never approve of Daniel, never forget Daniel's one, thoughtless lapse...   
  
Shoving the old, familiar pain aside, he forced himself to listen to Shaul.   
  
"We ought to station more troops to the north, and have them investigate Nephew Daniel's reports of strangers in the hills." Shaul's brown eyes flickered over Daniel, and he turned in his seat, giving Casey an assessing look. "We don't want more surprises from the north," he continued drily. "I have had my fill of their barbaric ways and attempts to conquer that which is not theirs."   
  
No one spoke, and the figures around the table seemed frozen, hands with food half-way to mouths, eyes wary, breaths stilled.   
  
"I agree with Uncle Shaul," Daniel replied at last, his words sounding loud in the awful silence. "We should send a small company of soldiers to investigate these reports. And as for being barbarians," he said slowly, his eyes locked on Shaul's, "it appears to me that the northerners are not the only ones who can claim the name barbarian."   
  
Shaul returned his stare, hardly blinking, and Daniel wondered fleetingly if he would interpret his words as a challenge. Then, with a grim chuckle, Shaul nodded. "Point taken, nephew. We have all heard of the way your slave was... mistreated. And by one who was trusted." He shook his head, lips pursed, and looked over his shoulder, eyes lingering on Casey. "And to think that this one was suspected of spying..." he continued with a snort of disbelief. "Well, now we know better, eh?"   
  
Daniel's hands clenched, one on the table, one at his side, nails biting into palms. His knuckles were pale from the tension, and any further words were drowned by the thick pounding in his ears. A hard, hot pain lodged in the middle of his chest. He wanted to lash out at his uncle, smash a fist into his heavy, smirking face, pin him to the floor and...   
  
He willed his fingers to loosen and glanced dismissively at Shaul. "The truth was there for those who wished to see it." His voice was cold, clipped, and Shaul's face darkened in response.   
  
Before he could answer, Yakob held up his hand. "Enough." Shaul sat back and glowered, but remained silent. "There are far more important issues to discuss than an injury to a slave," Yakob said, and a murmur of assent circled the table. "My son and my brother agree that troops should be sent to the northern villages..."   
  
Daniel listened and nodded and spoke when required, but he was painfully aware of Casey sitting quietly behind him. He could hear every breath Casey took, every soft brush of fabric, every small groan as he shifted on the cushion. He could feel the heat of Casey's body radiate across his shoulders and down his back, as well as the strength of his stare on the back of his skull.   
  
With an effort, he turned his attention back to his father.   
  
"The men will leave tomorrow," Yakob said with a nod, turning to Daniel. "You will brief them tonight, so that they can leave at first light."   
  
"Yes, Father."   
  
"It would save possible confusion and misunderstandings if Daniel accompanied them," suggested Shaul quietly. "He is the only one who has spoken to the farmers, and who-"   
  
"No!" Daniel unclenched his hands and sat back, as startled as the others were at his outburst. "I understand the reasons for your suggestion, Uncle," he continued, trying to speak calmly despite his racing heart, "but there is no need for me to go. I can give the men the names of all the farmers they must speak with, and an excellent description of the places for them to investigate." He looked around the table at the wary and confused expressions on the faces of his cousins, glancing briefly at his father and uncles. Yakob and Benyamin looked more startled than disturbed, but Shaul's face had darkened, and his eyes were narrowed in anger. Daniel had seen that expression on his uncle's face only a few times before, and his mouth was suddenly as dry as the desert floor.   
  
"I do not wish for my son to leave." Yakob spoke quietly, but the tension that had filled the room quickly evaporated at his words. Daniel lowered his eyes and bowed his head in acknowledgement and thanks at his father's support. "He has duties that suffer from neglect, and his time would best be spent here, rather than retracing his recent journey."   
  
"Of course, brother." Shaul shrugged easily. "It was merely a suggestion."   
  
Shaul did not look at him or speak to him through the remainder of dinner, and Daniel did not know whether to be comforted or disturbed by that fact. When his father dismissed them at the end of the meal, he sent Casey back to his rooms to rest. The evening, though involving nothing more strenuous for Casey than sitting and eating, had still tired him to the point where he was pale and shaky.   
  
"Go," Daniel said, as they stood together on the path to his quarters. "I will not be long. Get into bed, and when I return, I will examine your injuries," he added in a whisper, his hand sliding slowly down Casey's arm.   
  
"I will look forward to that," Casey murmured, leaning forward and brushing his lips over Daniel's. "Should I be naked?"   
  
Daniel groaned and pulled away. "Go, now," he said with a strangled chuckle. "Or I will take you here, on the ground, in public."   
  
Casey took a deep breath. "In public?" His voice shook, but it was not from fear.   
  
"Go!" Daniel turned and fled.   
  
It did not take him long to brief the soldiers, simply repeating what he had told his father two days ago and ensuring that they had memorized names and locations accurately. He also made a point of commending Yafez to the Captain.   
  
He sighed as he entered his rooms. It had been a long day, but now... Now he would have the night to enjoy Casey, or as much as was possible, given his healing injuries. Still, Daniel smiled to himself, creativity was a gift, and he could be *very* creative where Casey was concerned.   
  
*Very* creative, indeed.   
  
He quietly entered the bedroom. Casey was curled up on the bed, his thick hair spilling over his shoulders, one hand tucked beneath his cheek, the other clutching Daniel's pillow. He was fast asleep.   
  
Daniel sighed, resigned to simply pressing himself against Casey's warmth, when he saw the jars of ointment sitting on the table - both were open, and several clean cloths lay beside them. His cock hardened and he snorted ruefully. It would be a fine thing if he grew aroused every time he saw medicines...   
  
Still, it was an invitation, one that Daniel would not decline.   
  
He stripped quickly and settled on the bed beside Casey. Rolling him onto his back, he dipped a finger in the ointment and slowly anointed each bruise and cut. By the time he reached Casey's cock, it was hard and glistening with moisture, and although Casey's eyes were still closed, he was panting and obviously trying not to squirm. Daniel quickly applied the ointment to his bruised balls and the base of his cock and then, ignoring Casey's disappointed groan, urged him over onto his stomach. Casey settled in with a sigh and shifted his hips, raising his ass enough that Daniel could slid a pillow beneath him.   
  
Daniel kept his touch light and impersonal as he finished his ministrations, and then, with a swift flash of heat in his gut, he wiped his hands and gently parted Casey's cheeks.   
  
The swelling was still apparent, although the flesh had a better color than even that morning. Daniel closed his eyes and murmured a small prayer of thanks, although his cock ached at the thought of another day passing without being buried deep inside Casey. He picked up a damp, clean cloth and carefully wiped the puffy flesh, smiling at Casey's deep-throated groan and the way his legs stretched further, silently asking for what he wanted.   
  
Leaning forward and spreading Casey wider, Daniel kissed him, his tongue sliding gently over his abused flesh, poking into folds and darting deep inside. Casey bucked and gave a muffled shout, and Daniel's fingers tightened, holding him steady as his tongue and lips moved busily. He sat back only when he felt Casey's muscles tighten and his breaths grow fitful and raspy.   
  
"No!" Casey wailed, trying to grind his heavy cock into the pillow beneath him. Daniel held him still with an effort.   
  
"Wait," he murmured, dropping a kiss on the top of Casey's ass. Grabbing the small jar of ointment, he coated his finger and held the tip to Casey's hole, wiggling it slightly in invitation. With a grunt of frustration, Casey lunged back, swallowing Daniel's finger whole. Daniel hardly had time to twist the finger inside him before Casey's back arched and his head jerked back and he came in long, thick spurts.   
  
Leaving his finger inside Casey as he collapsed onto the bed, Daniel continued to twist and turn it, spreading the ointment deep into Casey's gut. Twice he pulled his finger out and applied more ointment, burying his finger to the third knuckle, while Casey shivered and panted at his touch. Finally, he wiped his hand and lay on the bed beside Casey, his cock painfully hard and throbbing.   
  
A brown eye gleamed at him, and Casey snorted when Daniel wrapped his own fingers around his cock, desperate for relief.   
  
"No," he said, and gently but firmly pulled Daniel's hand away.   
  
"You are exhausted," Daniel murmured, but he hissed and arched his back as Casey slipped his hand around Daniel's cock and squeezed it gently.   
  
"Not too exhausted to enjoy you," Casey answered, baring his teeth as Daniel helplessly thrust into his fist. He leaned over and licked Daniel's right nipple, then bit it gently.   
  
Daniel groaned and closed his eyes. It was good, so good, to have Casey stroking him, teasing him... His skin was as cold as a stream running down from the mountains, then hotter than the desert sands, and sensitive enough to feel the slight stirring in the air as Casey moved on the bed. He spread his legs at Casey's urgent touch, gasping at the cool finger that suddenly nudged at his ass.   
  
He raised his knees and shivered as the finger slowly entered him. By the Five, there was nothing as good as this...   
  
The finger moved, sliding in and out, circling tightly, sending sparks along his nerves, across his ass, up his spine, down his thighs. The finger suddenly disappeared and he raised his chin and breathed his question without words.   
  
"Patience." Casey sounded amused, but Daniel did not care. He caught the backs of his knees and pulled his legs apart. Casey gasped as he did so, and Daniel clenched his teeth in a rictus of a grin.   
  
"More," he said hoarsely.   
  
Warm lips touched the back of his thigh and the fingers around his cock tightened. "Yes."   
  
The finger returned, joined by another, and he wriggled his hips, pushing them deeper. His ass burned, flames licking over his cheeks and up his thighs, shooting up his cock and across his stomach.   
  
He was burning up. Soon there would be nothing left in his bed but ashes.   
  
The hand on his cock stilled, and this time when the fingers left, he cried out his frustration. Prying his eyes open, he focused blearily on Casey, who was kneeling between his spread thighs, his hand sliding quickly over his glistening cock.   
  
"Almost..." he said, releasing Daniel's cock and grabbing his hips, lifting him, moving himself, positioning himself...   
  
Casey's cock - Casey's *cock* - twitched and jerked, and he shifted his hips closer, bringing them together, brushing the tip of his cock against Daniel's ass, against Daniel's flesh, against Daniel...   
  
"No!" Daniel shouted, releasing his legs and scrambling away, across the bed, onto the floor, anywhere save there, on his back, waiting for Casey's cock.   
  
"Master?" Casey's hand was still on his cock, stroking gently. He reached for Daniel, and he backed away a step. "What is-"   
  
"Get out," Daniel said, heart pounding wildly. His voice shook, and he wrapped his arms around his chest, holding himself tightly. His erection was gone, his ass ached. He was so cold. "Get out of my bed."   
  
"Master, there is no need to be frightened," Casey replied soothingly. He had released his cock, and it bobbed ridiculously between his legs. Daniel shivered.   
  
"I am not frightened," he said, teeth chattering. "You have presumed too much, slave. Go sleep on the floor." It was not difficult to make his voice as cold as his body.   
  
Casey's mouth opened, but his brows drew together and he closed it without speaking. His face grew pink, then the color drained away, leaving his cheeks as pale as ivory, his bruises standing out lividly. "I thought you-" he began, and pinched together his chalky lips. "I thought we-"   
  
"Your thoughts are not important," Daniel interrupted brusquely. "You are the slave. *I* take *you*. No," he said, holding up his hand as Casey opened his mouth again, "do not speak. Just get out of *my* bed."   
  
He waited, head lowered, until Casey slowly slid off the bed. He did not look at him as he slipped beneath the blankets, pulling them close, trying to hoard his remaining body heat.   
  
Casey stood beside the bed for a few moments, then slowly crossed the room to his pallet.   
  
"Master?" It was barely a whisper, and Daniel winced at the raw pain contained in that one word.   
  
He did not speak, however, and after a moment, Casey lowered himself to the pallet, biting back his groans until he settled.   
  
Daniel closed his eyes, but he did not sleep. The hollow ache in his chest made it difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow, and the longer he lay there, the more it hurt.   
  
What had he done? 


	32. Chapter 32

He slept little and rose before dawn, slipping out of his cold bed. Casey moved restlessly on his pallet, still asleep, and Daniel's eyes were continually drawn to him as he dressed silently. Finally, with a shake of his head, he almost ran from the room.   
  
The soldiers were assembled outside the stables as Daniel arrived, the bustle of their leave-taking surprisingly quiet. He was tempted, for a moment, to saddle Zeina and ride with them. To leave his father, his home, his responsibilities - he could almost taste the heady warmth of freedom, of being his own man and not Daniel el-Rydal, son of Yakob. To leave Casey...   
  
He shivered.   
  
Casey...   
  
Memories tumbled through him, unchecked. Casey's soft sounds of pleasure. Casey's warm flesh and pliant body. Casey's quick wit and fierce intelligence. Casey's deft touch. Casey's face, etched with surprise and pain. Pain *he* had caused.   
  
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the images.   
  
Casey had presumed too much. He must learn his place. It was Daniel's responsibility to ensure that Casey did not overstep certain boundaries.   
  
His father's words, his father's voice. They hammered against his heart.   
  
"Master Daniel?"   
  
"Yes, Captain?" He pushed away his thoughts and nodded to Naroun.   
  
"Thank you for seeing the men off. Do you have any further instructions for them?"   
  
"No. I wanted to send them with the Prophets' blessings, as well as my father's." He lifted his hand and drew the sign of the One God in the air, murmuring the blessing. The men bowed their heads and, when he finished, thanked him severally.   
  
After watching the men leave, Daniel took two steps toward his rooms, then turned and walked directly to his wife's, instead.   
  
Aloise was still in bed, and he made it very clear to her slaves that she was not to be woken early on his account. He settled himself on the low seat and sipped the coffee a servant had provided. His father was right - he had responsibilities that had been neglected of late. In his concern for Casey, he had not tended to his wife's needs.   
  
Well, that would change.   
  
"You wished to speak with me, Master?" Eleeza stood in the doorway, and Daniel motioned her forward.   
  
"I have not had time to-" He broke off. He did not need to explain his absence to a slave. "Tell me how your mistress fares."   
  
Eleeza's lips pressed together and her lowered eyes flickered. "She sleeps, Master."   
  
He sighed and reined in his flash of anger. "Yes, I know that. When did Mother N'tale leave her?"   
  
"Last night, Master."   
  
"Has she heard the news?"   
  
Brown eyes met his for a moment, then were lowered again. "News?"   
  
"About Gu- About her slave."   
  
She nodded, her face pale. "Yes, Master. Word came after my Mistress took supper."   
  
"How did she react?" Eleeza paused, and Daniel spoke softly. "You have no need to fear. Tell me all."   
  
"She cried, Master, but quietly. Mistress N'tale comforted her, and gave my Mistress a mixture to make her sleep. After she was abed, Mistress N'tale charged me to watch over her. She has slept peacefully through the night."   
  
"Good." Daniel gave her an encouraging smile, and she blushed prettily. "You have done well. Have my breakfast brought; I will wait for her to arise."   
  
Daniel had almost finished when Aloise flew into the room, her eyes puffy and her hair pulling free of her long plait, curling softly around her face.   
  
"Husband!" She stopped short and blinked at him. "I apologize for not receiving you properly," she began, but he smiled and opened his arms and she came to him.   
  
She was warm and soft, filling his lap completely, and he tenderly kissed her disheveled hair, stubbornly not comparing her to any other. Her arms crept around him, stroking him gently, and he pulled her close to his chest.   
  
Ah, Aloise.   
  
She wept a little, her thin back vibrating as she tried to contain her sobs. He ran his hand down her back, rubbing comforting circles across her ribs and shoulders and spine.   
  
Eventually she took a deep breath and looked up at him, her lashes thick with tears.   
  
"I have disappointed you." She sniffled. "I have not been brave."   
  
Daniel laid a finger on her lips. They quivered. "Hush. I am not disappointed in you at all, and you have been very brave." He tilted her head and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I am sorry I could not come to you earlier," he continued. "I had many-"   
  
"Do not apologize," she interrupted, impatiently wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I know you have been busy." She settled herself more comfortably on his lap and folded her hands primly. "How is your slave? I-" Her face grew red. "I was so selfishly involved in my own sorrow that I did not think to ask about him."   
  
"He is much better," Daniel replied smoothly, ignoring the tight knot that suddenly appeared in his chest. "And you were not being selfish, my dear. Your distress was understandable." He quickly wiped away a tear that had formed at the corner of her eye and kissed the top of her head. "Now you must have some breakfast and tell me what you did while I was away. Have you anything new to show me?"   
  
The morning was half gone by the time he left her and made his way to the women's quarters. N'tale was sitting in the courtyard, a length of embroidered cloth lying forgotten on her lap, talking quietly with her servants. She looked up as Daniel entered and gave him a warm smile.   
  
"Mother N'tale," he said as he bowed. "I wanted to express my thanks to you for your kindness to my wife."   
  
She nodded slowly and held out her hand. "Your thanks are not necessary, Son Daniel," she replied formally as he took her fingers gently in his. "I was glad to help the poor child. How is she doing this morning?" She indicated the bench beside her and he released her hand and sat.   
  
"Much better, thanks to you."   
  
Dimpling at him, she shook her head. "No. I think the attention of her husband was of more benefit than anything I could do."   
  
Daniel's face grew warm, but he simply shrugged. "Whatever the reason, I am pleased."   
  
"She adores you, you know," N'tale said softly, her black eyes searching his face. "Both for marrying her in the first place, and for your continuing kindness to her."   
  
"She is a good wife," he replied as quietly. He rose and gave her a smile and a little bow. "And now I must-"   
  
"Daniel! I did not expect to see you here this morning." Rebecca walked slowly toward them.   
  
His smile suddenly felt stiff and crooked. "I merely came by to thank Mother N'tale for taking care of my wife during the past few days," he said, wishing he had left a moment earlier.   
  
Her eyes darted between them as he helped her to sit. "I am sure N'tale didn't mind, since she has no other responsibilities." Her hands caressed her rounded belly and she looked up at Daniel, eyes soft. "Won't you stay for a while longer? We have hardly had a chance to speak these past few days."   
  
"I look forward to doing that soon," he said, trying to inject some warmth into his voice. "My father has already commented on how I have neglected my duties, however, and I must not tarry." He bowed again and she held up her hand. Keeping his expression blank, he took her fingers and kissed the air above them, then dropped them quickly. "Excuse me."   
  
He made good his escape.   
  
The remainder of the day passed quickly, and Daniel only returned to his rooms as the sun was dropping behind the fields in the west. He hurried in, surprised to find his rooms immaculate, yet with a far from immaculate Casey sitting at the low table. Casey's clothing was rumpled and smudged, and black ink stained his fingers and face. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face, beneath the black smears, was pale. Scraps of paper covered the table, and he held a small book in one hand.   
  
"Master!" He put down the book and scrambled to his feet, glancing at Daniel once before bowing his head. His hands nervously plucked at the front of his robe. "I did not know when to expect you."   
  
Daniel stood still and silent for a long moment. He wanted to gather Casey in his arms and wipe away that forlorn expression with kisses. He wanted to drag him into bed and replace that pale stranger with his warm, laughing lover. He wanted to watch and touch and hear and taste and scent him until he was such a part of Daniel that they could never be divided...   
  
But he would not. He was his father's son, an el-Rydal, with a wife and responsibilities. Those was facts he could not afford to forget.   
  
"Did you have your lesson with Mistress Rebekah?" he asked finally, keeping his voice cool and even.   
  
"No, Master." Casey's shoulders drooped, and his hands continued to move. "She said that she did not have the time today."   
  
"I see. So you took it upon yourself to continue, despite the lack of a tutor?"   
  
Casey's hands stilled and his eyes met Daniel's. "I know enough now to teach myself the rest." His chin lifted. "I have done it before, with other languages, and this is no different."   
  
Daniel looked away, taking in the tidy room. "I finished my chores first, of course," continued Casey, his voice growing harsh. "And I am only doing this according to your orders, so that I might become a more useful slave to you."   
  
"Good. As long as that is the only reason." Daniel turned toward the bedroom, ignoring Casey's startled gasp. "Help me wash and dress for dinner."   
  
Daniel paused in the middle of the room, but when Casey approached to undress him, he tightened his lips and shook his head. No. It would be better if Casey did not touch him. He stripped off his clothes and held out his hand for the cloth.   
  
"You will accompany me to my father's for dinner. Set out my clothes and then make yourself presentable." He washed and dressed quickly, and, as Casey was struggling to clean the ink from his face, he went into the receiving room and sat in front of the table.   
  
He examined a handful of papers, surprised and pleased at how much Casey's mastery of writing had improved. His letters were flowing more easily and the connections were smoother than in his earlier efforts. Sorting through the pages filled with lists of words and snatches of phrases, he came across a small scrap of paper unlike the others.   
  
Northern writing. He recognized the separate stick figures that served as letters. Barbaric. Daniel looked at it carefully. There were only two sets of characters, it appeared, repeated over and over. He shook his head, and then dropped the paper.   
  
"Are you ready yet?"   
  
Casey appeared in the doorway, dressed in a clean robe, his hair brushed and tied back neatly. Daniel eyed him critically. There were still dark shadows on his face and hands from the ink, but he was a slave. They would not be noticed.   
  
He jerked his head in a nod. "You'll do. Come." He turned and led the way to his father's.   
  
The women joined them, and the meal was both more formal and more relaxed than when only the men attended. Daniel strove to make himself pleasant to everyone, including Salaeh, and he was pleased when he earned a grudging smile from his father and a startled look from his primary wife when he complimented Salaeh on her choice of menu.   
  
He tried to draw out N'tale, publicly praising her kindness to Aloise in front of his father, and teasing her gently about her sweet tooth. She responded slowly, but Daniel could see glimpses of a sharp wit and keen intelligence behind the demure exterior, and wondered how long it would be before there was a power struggle between Salaeh and her. Still, the meal was going well, and he had another drink of wine.   
  
Indicating Rebekah with a small wave of his hand, he turned to his father. "I am also grateful for Mother Rebekah's kindness, Father. She is tutoring my principle slave, teaching him to write and cipher."   
  
Yakob smiled at Rebekah, who blushed and lowered her eyes. "I am pleased, my wife. I know these last weeks are difficult to bear with patience. An occupation such as this is useful both to you and my son."   
  
"I am always willing to help my husband's son in any way I can," she replied softly, glancing at Daniel. "It is one of my duties as your loving wife."   
  
Leaning over to rest his hand on hers, Yakob murmured a few words. She blushed and suddenly looked sleek and pleased.   
  
Daniel turned away, only to catch Salaeh looking at him, her lips curved into a tiny smile. Her eyes were cold and bright, like those of a stalking cat, and he shivered.   
  
With a snort, he straightened his back and met her gaze. Her eyes widened a fraction, and her smile grew. Their eyes continued to hold for a moment longer, until she suddenly turned and joined in the conversation between Yakob and Rebekah.   
  
Daniel swallowed hard and shifted his shoulders. He and Salaeh had never enjoyed each other's company, but he could not say why her gaze had so unnerved him this time. He took another drink of wine.   
  
It was late when he and Casey returned to his rooms. Daniel had had more to drink than usual, and he collapsed on the bed with a sigh of relief. Casey stepped forward and gently lifted his thobe, his hands brushing over Daniel's calves and thighs, leaving a burning trail in their wake.   
  
"Stop!" he cried out, batting away Casey's hands. He struggled up to his elbows. "Don't touch me." He turned away from Casey's stricken face and closed his eyes. "Go to bed. I will take care of myself."   
  
There was no response, only the soft sound of Casey padding across the room. Daniel flopped back onto the bed and groaned. Responsibilities. So many responsibilities. To his father, his family, his wife, his slave...   
  
He twisted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, the thobe bunching around his hips. He shifted, tugging at the material impatiently. His hand brushed his cock and it stirred. He stroked it idly, eyes closed. It felt good. Warm and tight. But not as warm and tight as Casey's ass.   
  
There was a soft grunt from the corner of the room, and the sound of Casey moving on his pallet. Damn. The ointments. He had forgotten them, and now Casey would have to apply them himself. All that skin, all that smooth skin... Daniel's cock twitched at the thought of spreading the ointment over Casey's body, of pushing it deep into his ass. His hand moved faster, and with a luxuriant sigh, he spurted over his fingers and gown. He dozed for a moment, then slipped into sleep, his hand still wrapped around his sticky cock. 


	33. Chapter 33

He awoke with a groan, squinting at the bright sunlight painting the room's whitewashed walls. With an oath, he pulled the blanket over his face and squeezed his eyes shut. Damn. His head hurt.   
  
He scratched his belly and grimaced when his fingers encountered the flaking remains of his orgasm. Yes... He had thought of Casey last night, as he had touched himself. Daniel's face grew warm at the memory, and he cast aside the blanket and struggled to sit up. He rubbed his face and blinked hard, his eyes finally adjusting to the light.   
  
By the Five, it was late morning.   
  
Glancing at Casey's empty pallet, he slowly slid out of bed and stood, his head throbbing. He staggered to the washbasin, pleased to find the water warm, and clean towels set out for him. He pulled off his rumpled thobe and washed quickly, but thoroughly; he was drying himself when Casey appeared in the doorway, carrying clean clothes.   
  
Casey did not speak as he placed the clothes on the bed and turned to leave. His head was bowed, and Daniel could not see his face, curtained by the fall of his unbound hair, but his slumped shoulders and hesitant step were all too eloquent.   
  
Daniel found himself reaching out to touch Casey before he even realized what he was doing, and quickly drew back his hand. An ache in his chest had joined the pain in his head, and he closed his eyes and sighed, cradling his hands to his chest.   
  
"Master? Are you well?" There was concern in the soft voice, and Daniel almost burst into surprised laughter at the question. Was he well? That was an excellent question, an excellent question indeed. But it was not the question that almost undid his thin veneer of control, but the worry evident in Casey's voice. Worry that even his master's coldness could not kill...   
  
"Yes," he replied brusquely, choking back his laugh. "Have my breakfast brought. I will eat here." He did not look at Casey as he spoke, but dressed quickly and went to his receiving room. He would have time to answer a few letters before breakfast arrived. When he opened his correspondence case, however, he was startled to see how long he had neglected this area, and resigned himself to spending the day catching up.   
  
Casey had cleared the table and Daniel spread the pile of letters, notes, receipts and bills over the surface. He sighed and began to sort them. He had almost finished when his breakfast appeared, and he pushed them to one side as Casey placed the tray on the table before him and stood to one side.   
  
Daniel was half-way through his coffee and bread when he glanced up. Casey's face was a careful blank, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite, but his face was pale and his hands trembled.   
  
"Have you eaten?" he snapped, angry with himself, with Casey, with the world.   
  
Casey's eyes did not leave the wall. "No, Master."   
  
"Well, then, sit down and eat something."   
  
"I'm not hungry, Master."   
  
"You're not hungry?" His eyes narrowed and he looked more carefully at Casey. "I don't care. You can't serve me if you faint away. Now, sit down." He pointed at the cushions beside the table.   
  
Casey sat down stiffly and folded his hands in his lap.   
  
Daniel glared at him. "Eat something. Bread, yoghurt, an orange. Something."   
  
Casey looked at the food, but did not move.   
  
"Go on." Daniel gestured at the food.   
  
"No, Master."   
  
"What?"   
  
"No."   
  
Daniel stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck. Then his anger returned, flooding through him, and he slapped his palm on the table. "You *will* eat!"   
  
For the first time that morning, Casey's eyes met his. "No." He looked at Daniel calmly, implacably, and lifted his chin in a familiar, stubborn gesture.   
  
Daniel's hands clenched and he sucked in a lungful of air. "No?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Perhaps a few days chained up, without food *or* water, would make you appreciate my offer."   
  
Casey's throat moved convulsively as he swallowed, but he continued to look at Daniel calmly. "It's not a matter of appreciation."   
  
Daniel looked at him suspiciously. "No? Then why do you refuse to eat?"   
  
Casey gave him a startled look, then scowled. "Why *should* I eat?" he rasped, leaning forward suddenly, his eyes flashing. "Why should I wish to continue this way? You have made it very clear that you don't want me in your bed, that I am only useful to you as a servant, not a lo-" His face crumpled in misery. "I'm sorry if I did something to anger or offend you. I'm sorry! Whatever I did, it was inadvertent, and now you have taken from me the only thing that has made my life bearable..." He pulled his hands back into his lap and looked away, his expression calm again. Only his heaving chest and the lines of despair at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.   
  
Daniel frowned, opening his mouth and then closing it again. The raw ache in his chest spread to his throat, almost throttling him.   
  
What had he done?   
  
More importantly, could it be undone?   
  
And yet...   
  
His father's voice whispered in his ear. Kindness was essential when dealing with slaves, as long as the master remained in control and defined the limits of the relationship. Daniel took a shaky breath. He could do that. He could treat Casey with kindness and still maintain control of himself, as well as the strange connection between them.   
  
"Have some breakfast," he said quietly, holding up his hand before Casey could speak. "And afterward, you can help me with my correspondence." He smiled at Casey, only slightly unsettled at how right it felt to speak to him kindly.   
  
Casey looked at him suspiciously for a moment, and Daniel reached out, resting his fingers lightly on Casey's knee. "I need you, Casey," he said.   
  
With a sigh, Casey lowered his eyes to Daniel's hand and muttered a few words in a tongue Daniel did not understand. Then he met Daniel's gaze, but instead of answering Daniel's smile, he frowned.   
  
"Damn you, Master," he whispered, his voice breaking. His hand crept over Daniel's and he squeezed his fingers hard. "Damn you to hell."   
  
Daniel returned the pressure, then released Casey's hand and shoved the plate of food toward him. "You can curse me all you wish," he said lightly, unwilling to acknowledge how much Casey's words disturbed him, "as long as you eat."   
  
Casey still looked unhappy as he picked up an orange and slowly peeled it, but he did not object when Daniel dug out his pile of letters and began to discuss how Casey could help him.   
  
They worked through the morning, and Daniel was pleased to see Casey slowly relaxing, regaining some of his old sparkle and interest in the world around him. Once or twice he had stepped close to the line that Daniel had drawn and Daniel had firmly put him in his place, but he appeared to accept those limits without more than a frown and puzzled look.   
  
Daniel was ready to send Casey for some food when El'yt appeared at the door.   
  
"Master Daniel, a visitor has arrived who wishes to speak with you. He gives his name as Ysak el-Yafe, as says you have met."   
  
"El-Yafe?" Daniel smiled and motioned for Casey to begin collecting the papers strewn across the table. "Yes, we spent a pleasant evening together when I last returned from town. Bring him here and send food. He will dine with me."   
  
El'yt bowed and left. Daniel rose and glanced at Casey. "Do you remember el-Yafe Effendi?"   
  
Casey looked at him blankly. "No, Master. Should I?"   
  
"He and his slave spoke with you at Mustafa's, where we broke our journey after I bou-- After I chose you. They know some of the northern tongues."   
  
"I remember," he replied thoughtfully. "They explained my duties and-" He broke off abruptly, his face coloring.   
  
"Yes." Daniel remembered Casey's admission of how much he wanted Daniel clearly, but he would not remind him of that. He glanced at Casey's flushed cheeks. He did not think a reminder was necessary.   
  
Within a few moments, el-Yafe appeared at the door.   
  
"Welcome, Effendi!" Daniel bowed and gestured him inside. "You are most welcome to the home of my family."   
  
El-Yafe smiled and returned the greeting, his eyes moving quickly around the room, stopping when they lit upon Casey. Daniel was startled to see a look of something very like relief rapidly cross his features, only to be quickly replaced by polite interest. His dark-haired slave stood quietly by the door as they spoke the prescribed formulas of welcome.   
  
"It is good to see you again, el-Rydal Effendi, and a blessing to receive your hospitality." El-Yafe seated himself at Daniel's invitation and beckoned to his slave, who sat quietly at his master's feet. "There are rumors of further conflicts with the north, and," he lowered his voice, "we encountered unease and concern about the possibility of full-scale fighting throughout the countryside."   
  
Daniel nodded, and sat. "I was afraid of such." He turned to Casey. "You will stay," he said, his voice gentle, and indicated the cushion at his feet. Casey sat obediently, his hands folded in his lap, and looked at the newcomers.   
  
El-Yafe glanced at Casey and cocked his head to one side. "Isn't this the... slave you had just purchased when we last met?"   
  
"Yes." Daniel rested his hand on Casey's shoulder. "I must thank you again for your help then."   
  
"It was our pleasure," he said absently, peering at Casey's face and frowning. "Jarem and I enjoyed the challenge. What has he done to deserve such a beating?"   
  
Daniel felt his face grow warm, and his hand tightened on Casey's shoulder. "He did not deserve it, nor did I countenance it. Casey was attacked by another slave, but he is healing now."   
  
El-Yafe's eyes remained fixed on Casey. He spoke a few words that Daniel could not understand and Casey nodded once, replying as briefly.   
  
"What have you said?" Daniel demanded. "What have you-"   
  
"It was nothing," el-Yafe replied soothingly. "Simply a greeting in his native language."   
  
Daniel glared at him and turned to Casey, releasing his grip on his shoulder and leaning to see his face. "Is that true, Casey?"   
  
Casey's mouth quirked and his lowered his head. "No."   
  
Battling his sudden anger, Daniel spoke quietly. "What did he ask you?"   
  
"If you were speaking the truth about the attack."   
  
"And what did you say in response?"   
  
"That you spoke the truth."   
  
Daniel lifted his head and looked at el-Yafe coldly. He was pleased to see el-Yafe look disconcerted. "I will not disgrace the name of el-Rydal by refusing hospitality to a visitor, even one who has called my honor into question. But be aware that you tread on dangerous ground by not being straightforward with me, Effendi."   
  
"My apologies, el-Rydal Effendi." El-Yafe bowed his head. "My curiosity got the better of me. After our earlier meeting, I feel a certain... interest in your slave. I see that he now understands our language," he continued, reaching out to run a hand through the thick hair of his own slave. "Have you questioned him about his past?"   
  
"No, not yet." Daniel looked at el-Yafe uneasily. This was the second time he had brought up the topic of Casey's past. Why would a merchant be interested in the previous life of a slave? It did not make sense. "And although I appreciate your interest in Casey, I would prefer to hear more of these rumors you mentioned earlier."   
  
"Yes, yes, of course." Servants appeared with food, and there was the usual bustle as the table was laid, and Daniel continued in his role as host. Once el-Yafe and he had filled their plates, Daniel signaled Casey and Jarem to do the same, and they ate in silence.   
  
"I have heard that the Prince is stocking the janissaries with fresh blood," el-Yafe remarked, handing his empty plate to Jarem. "He is exacting additional tribute from the infidel villages and taking younger children than before."   
  
"What do janissaries have to do with children?" Casey asked quietly.   
  
"They are the Prince's handpicked troops," explained Daniel, pleased at Casey's interest, as well as the amount of food he had eaten. "Every year, each infidel village must provide as tribute a certain number of children, who will be educated and trained as soldiers. At what age are they taking them now?" he asked el-Yafe.   
  
"Seven."   
  
Daniel frowned. "Too young. They should be with their mothers for another year or two." He looked at Casey, who had set aside his plate. His face was pale. "Are you well?"   
  
"Yes." His voice shook and he bowed his head.   
  
"Casey?" Daniel rested his hand against Casey's cheek. "You have grown over-tired. Go and rest."   
  
Casey closed his eyes, pain etched on his features. "No," he whispered. "No, I am well."   
  
Daniel allowed his thumb to trail lightly over Casey's lips. Surely there could be no harm in that gentle touch. Casey's breath warmed his fingers, and he pulled his hand away quickly. A chill traveled from his empty hand up his arm, straight into his chest, and he turned back to el-Yafe.   
  
"I wonder how long the Prince will wait before demanding children from all villages," he said quietly.   
  
El-Yafe pursed his lips and shrugged, his eyes lingering on Casey. "That eventuality might be postponed for a while. The Prince has recently decreed that all male children captured during battle will be offered to the janissaries, rather than sold as slaves."   
  
"Surely there can't be that many captured." Daniel took a drink of wine.   
  
"There are enough." El-Yafe continued to look at Casey. "In fact, I heard that in the past few months, several dozen children from the north have been taken alive and brought under the janissaries' wing."   
  
"And will the Prince accept them?"   
  
"Yes, he will. He must."   
  
Casey suddenly leaned forward, eyes wide. "Children from the north?"   
  
Before Daniel could reply, el-Yafe nodded.   
  
"Yes. Some were taken after the fighting at Dar El Salla - wagon boys, scullery boys, the children of the officers..."   
  
Casey's face grew pale, and he swallowed hard. "Tell me more," he said hoarsely.   
  
"I have heard," el-Yafe continued, his eyes not leaving Casey's face, "that they are especially pleased with a particular child, the son of a minor official, who is well-versed in the scholarly arts."   
  
"Can you describe him?" Casey clasped the table so tightly that Daniel half-expected his fingers to leave marks in the polished wood.   
  
"He is said to be a well-favored child with hair as gold as the sun and fair skin. They have given him the name Haleeh, but he will only answer to his barbaric northern name - Olle."   
  
The color drained from Casey's face, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. A tear trailed slowly down his cheek. When he opened his eyes again, Daniel was stunned at the joy evident in their brown depths.   
  
"He is alive," Casey whispered, relief, hope and delight present in every word. "My son is alive..." 


	34. Chapter Forty-four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the archivist: The original work on Boys In Chains did not include chapters numbered 34-43.

"Daniel?"   
  
He shifted, groaning, and forced his heavy eyelids open. Casey leaned over him, his mouth curving in a gentle smile.   
  
"I'm sorry to wake you," he said, slipping his hand beneath Daniel's head, "but the healer sent your infusion, and you should drink it right away." He held the cup to Daniel's lips.   
  
Obediently, Daniel sipped the pungent infusion. He had slept well, curled around Casey, relatively pain-free, but the stresses of the past few days had taken their toll. He felt as weak as a newborn kit, and when he had finished, lay back on the cushions, grateful that he would not have to rise immediately.   
  
There was a knock on the door, and his eyes followed Casey as he crossed the room, lingering on the long neck, strong and proud, yet achingly vulnerable. Daniel licked his lips, remembering the taste and texture...   
  
The clatter of crockery drew his gaze back to the door.   
  
"*I* will serve him," Casey said sharply, struggling to pull the tray from the dark-eyed youth who had brought their food yesterday. What was his name? Kaseem?   
  
"It is my duty to-" Kaseem began, trying to push Casey into the room and take the tray from him at the same time. The tray tipped dangerously as they struggled.   
  
Daniel pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile. This was ridiculous.   
  
"Casey," he said softly, "come sit with me and let the boy serve." He patted the bed beside him and smiled at Casey.   
  
With a snort, Casey released the tray and stepped back, gesturing for Kaseem to enter. Eyes flashing, Kaseem lifted his chin and strode across the room, setting down the tray with a thump.   
  
Casey sat on the bed beside Daniel, who rested his hand in the small of Casey's back and rubbed gently, enjoying the warmth. In contented silence, they watched the young man set out the food and drink on the table.   
  
"What may I bring you, Effendi?" Kaseem asked Daniel with a bow, his hand gracefully sweeping over the selection of dishes on the table. "Bread and honey? Yogurt? Coffee? Dates?"   
  
Daniel smiled at him, eyeing the food on the table. "Coffee," he replied, "and bread and yogurt." Kaseem's white teeth gleamed as he returned Daniel's smile.   
  
As Kaseem busied himself with preparing Daniel's plate, Casey helped him sit up, comfortably propped on a mound of pillows.   
  
With a nod, Daniel accepted the cup and plate Kaseem held out to him. "This looks delicious." The young man's face darkened and the corners of his mouth lifted. "Prepare another dish for my... companion," Daniel continued, "and then I shall need parchment, and a pen and ink." Kaseem's smile disappeared, and he opened his mouth to speak. Daniel waved a hand peremptorily. "Quickly."   
  
Casey turned to him, his brows drawn together. "Will you write to your father?"   
  
"No." The word sent an ache through his chest, and Daniel took a sip of his coffee before continuing briskly. "No. I want to write out your manumission, so there will be no doubt about your status." His voice was calm. Steady. He was strong. He was an el-Rydal. He could do this, as long as he did not think about it. About the possibility of giving up Casey. He swallowed hard, his stomach churning.   
  
"Oh." Casey's face flushed and he brushed back the thick strands of hair that had fallen into his face. His hand shook.   
  
Moving stiffly, Kaseem brought a plate to Casey, almost dumping it in his lap. Roused from his reverie, Casey grabbed the plate and cup with a muttered oath and glared at the youth. Kaseem opened his brown eyes very wide and looked beseechingly at Daniel.   
  
"The parchment," Daniel said firmly. "We will manage on our own."   
  
Bowing low, Kaseem slowly backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving Daniel.   
  
As soon as he was gone, Daniel turned to Casey. "This afternoon we will purchase the supplies we need, so that we may leave at first light tomorrow."   
  
Shaking his head, Casey dipped his bread into the honey and took a bite. "*I* shall purchase the supplies, Daniel." His voice was firm. "*You* will remain in bed and rest."   
  
"I will be perfectly well by this afternoon," Daniel replied, shifting in the bed. He hissed in pain as he tried to use his right arm, and ignored Casey's concerned look. He could not eat; the food tasted like ashes in his mouth. "I am finished. You may take my plate."   
  
Casey frowned at him, but he obediently removed the plate from Daniel's lap and then finished his own breakfast in silence. Daniel leaned back against the pillows and watched him, shifting his leg so that it pressed against Casey's hip - a warm connection that comforted him.   
  
Casey was stacking the plates on the tray when Kaseem returned, carrying the items Daniel had requested.   
  
"Ah, good. Place them on the table and take away the tray," Daniel ordered.   
  
Kaseem took the tray, pausing. "May I be of further service, Effendi?" he said softly, his eyes flickering over Daniel, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.   
  
Waving a hand dismissively, Daniel threw back the blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Perhaps later."   
  
"That will be all." Casey's voice was curt, and he turned to Daniel with a frown. "What are you doing? You should stay in bed."   
  
"Don't be absurd." Daniel rested on the edge of the bed for a moment. "I cannot write in the bed." He rose slowly, favoring his injured arm, and Casey quickly moved to his side to steady him. He sat down heavily in the chair, unwilling to admit just how much the few steps had tired him.   
  
Daniel stared at the blank parchment and wondered why it was suddenly so difficult to draw breath. His chest ached, and a cold point deep beneath his breastbone blossomed unexpectedly, sending icy ripples shuddering through his chest and gut.   
  
A warm hand lighted on his shoulder, and he started.   
  
"Master?"   
  
He looked up. Casey's face blurred; Daniel blinked hard and passed a shaky hand over his eyes. How could he do this? It was like cutting off one of his limbs.   
  
"Daniel?"   
  
The hand slid down his arm to his elbow, then traveled the same route again. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He must do this. He had promised, and an el-Rydal would not renege on his promise.   
  
"I am well," he replied, opening his eyes and meeting Casey's worried gaze. "Just a little tired."   
  
"This can wait-"   
  
"No." Daniel set his jaw and reached for the pen. "No, it can't." He bit back a hiss of pain as he grasped the pen, nerves screaming, feeling as if the flesh was being stripped from the bones. His face grew chill and clammy as he forced his hand to move. He was cold, so cold, and his pulse throbbed in his ears. Casey spoke, his voice sounding distant, thin, as if there wasn't air enough to carry the words...   
  
"Don't move."   
  
He didn't. He was laying back on something soft, and fingers were stroking his cheek, jaw, across his lips. He opened his mouth and sighed. "Casey?"   
  
"You fainted." The tone was brusque, the words clipped.   
  
Opening his eyes, Daniel was surprised to see the healer standing beside Casey, her face stern. He flushed and shifted in the bed.   
  
"It was not necessary to send for-"   
  
"Yes, it was." Her voice was firm, and brooked no argument. "You cannot use your arm for the next several days. Do not attempt to do so again, or you will court another fainting fit."   
  
"But I *must*-" he began, gesturing toward the table where the parchment lay.   
  
She silenced him with a look. "Then hire a scribe." Nodding to Casey, she took the cup he handed her and held it to Daniel's lips. "Drink. It will ease the pain and allow you to rest."   
  
He drank.   
  
Warmth spread through him, weighing down his head and limbs. He watched as she spoke to Casey, serious and low-voiced, and as he walked her to the door. A dark face peered around the jamb, eyes glittering, then disappeared. His eyes fluttered shut.   
  
Some time later, a voice spoke in barely understood murmurs. The words drifted through his mind, like early-morning wisps of fog in a wadi, insubstantial and tenuous.   
  
"Daniel, I am going to the market to purchase our supplies. I have taken some money. I will return soon."   
  
The phrases echoed faintly and he frowned. No, you cannot... He opened his mouth to warn, to call back.   
  
Why? He could no longer remember what had been said.   
  
He closed his mouth and sank back into sleep. 


	35. Chapter Forty-five

He rose from sleep like a bird taking wing, smoothly, effortlessly. He felt... good. Rested. Almost energetic. The lancing pain in his arm had subsided into a dull ache, entirely tolerable.   
  
A soft sound came from the other end of the room, the brush of cloth against cloth.   
  
Too comfortable to move, Daniel smiled. "Casey?"   
  
A shadow flitted across the whitewashed ceiling. "How may I serve you, Effendi?" Kaseem displayed his strong white teeth in an answering smile.   
  
Surprised, Daniel raised his head. "Where is Casey?" He peered around the room.   
  
"Do not worry about him," murmured Kaseem, bending low over Daniel. "He said he must go to the market. In the meantime, you must rest." His long-fingered hand rested on Daniel's forehead, and pressed him gently back against the pillows. "Rest," he continued, his fingers stroking down Daniel's cheek. "I can make you happy while you rest, Effendi. Very, very happy."   
  
"I'm sure you could, Kaseem." Daniel's voice was soft, but he gripped Kaseem's wrist firmly and pulled his hand away. "But at the moment, I am very happy with Casey."   
  
Kaseem's face darkened and he raised his chin. "And what does he know about making a man like you happy?" He looked at Daniel's fingers, wrapped tightly around his wrist, and his lids fluttered. "I know many ways to satisfy you, many ways to stir your blood." His voice was husky, and he sat on the side of the bed, leaning over Daniel.   
  
"I am not interested," Daniel said brusquely, releasing Kaseem's wrist. "It is time for you to leave me and attend to your other duties."   
  
"Ah, but none of my other duties is as pleasant as this," he responded, placing his hand on Daniel's chest and sliding it down, down...   
  
"Stop that!" Daniel struck his hand aside and struggled to sit up.   
  
"You would not regret it." Kaseem licked his lips blatantly, his body pressing heavily on Daniel's hips, preventing him from moving much. "Serving *you* would be a pleasure."   
  
Daniel took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. Kaseem's attentions, while unwanted, could be considered flattering, after all. And he certainly was attractive enough, with his thick, dark eyelashes and soft mouth...   
  
His cock twitched, and Kaseem smiled broadly, his eyes heavy lidded. "Yes," he crooned, ghosting his fingers over the blanket covering Daniel's groin. "You know it will be good, Effendi."   
  
"No!" Daniel shook his head, but his cock jerked and began to fill. He pushed ineffectually at Kaseem's shoulder.   
  
Dropping a kiss onto the cloth-covered mound, Kaseem shifted around, pinning Daniel's legs. His hands pressed and stroked, coaxing another surge in Daniel's cock. "What is your desire, Effendi? Would you like to fill my mouth? Or my ass?" He wriggled sinuously.   
  
"Kaseem," Daniel panted, torn between arousal and anger, "don't-"   
  
"Don't what? This?" Kaseem breathed hotly over Daniel's groin. "Or this?" In one quick movement, he sat up and, pulling down the blanket to Daniel's knees, straddled Daniel's thighs. Kaseem caressed Daniel's cock through the thin cotton of his shirt. "Do you like it tight and hot?" he purred, his face flushed, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip. "You could take me dry. Force your way inside me, open me wide with your cock." His eyes closed and he leaned forward, his face less than a handspan from Daniel's. He opened his mouth and breathed, "Do it, *Master*."   
  
"Damn you!" With a heave of his body, Daniel tossed Kaseem off the bed, and sat, glaring at him as he lay in a heap on the floor. "Leave me," he ordered, his voice harsh. "Send a servant to the market to find Casey. I want him."   
  
Kaseem twisted around, facing Daniel, his upper lip raised in a snarl. "Do not bother to want him, Effendi. He is foreign, a slave. He will be dealt with."   
  
"What do you mean?" Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood.   
  
With a defiant lift of his chin, Kaseem spread his legs and shifted his hips in a blatant invitation. "Forget him. I am everything you need, *Master*."   
  
The room darkened for a moment. "Do not call me that," Daniel spat, anger ripping through him. "Where is he?" His voice rose. "Where is Casey?"   
  
Kaseem's eyes glittered. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue slowly over his lips, leaving them wet and red, but he did not speak.   
  
Daniel's fingers clenched, and he raised his hand and narrowed his eyes. "You *will* tell me, boy, else-"   
  
There was an abrupt knock on the door, and it was flung open. The healer stood in the doorway, her hood pushed back, her gray braid coming loose. Behind her stood a woman, whose dark eyes and full lips echoed those of the man sprawled on the floor. Maleka, the owner of the house. Her plump hand pawed at the healer's arm and was shrugged off impatiently.   
  
"You are awake," the healer gasped. "Good." She did not spare a glance toward Kaseem, but held out her hand to Daniel. "Your companion..." She panted and waved her hand before her face.   
  
"Casey?" Daniel started forward, but Kaseem clasped his ankle, bringing him up short. "What has happened?" He spun around and, flexing his toes, drove the ball of his foot hard into Kaseem's belly. With a cry, Kaseem released him.   
  
"The guards..." The healer pushed away Maleka's bothersome hand again and looked coldly at Kaseem. "The guards were told he is a runaway, and took him at the marketplace."   
  
"By the Five, no," Daniel breathed. "A runaway..." All the warmth in his body suddenly congealed into a frigid, brittle mass lodged in his gut. A runaway... He shivered. "Have they..." He could not finish the question. His voice simply would not work.   
  
"Not yet." The healer dashed across the room and grabbed Daniel's trousers, flinging them at him. "You must dress quickly and stop them. I cannot speak of what I have witnessed as a healer; you are the only person who can attest to the truth."   
  
Daniel struggled into his trousers and sat on the side of the bed. The healer helped him slip on his boots, turning to a motionless Kaseem as she worked.   
  
"Take their saddlebags and saddle their horses," she ordered. "Quickly!" Kaseem just stared at her, and Maleka stood by the door, moaning. The healer raised her hand, palm out, at Kaseem. "If you do not do as I say instantly, I shall wither your genitals and blight your beauty. Your little games have gone on long enough, and a man's life may be forfeit."   
  
Daniel closed his eyes. No, not Casey, not now. When he opened them, Kaseem, and the saddlebags, were gone.   
  
"We must go now." The healer offered a hand to Daniel, and he was too distraught to refuse it. Pain sliced through his arm as they pelted down the corridor to the stables, but he ignored it. What was a little physical pain compared to the possibility of losing Casey? His stomach lurched at the thought and he stumbled, slamming hard into the plaster wall. With an oath, he pushed off and continued.   
  
Damn Kaseem.   
  
The horses were ready when they dashed into the stable. It was a struggle to mount Zeina, but he finally sat upright in the saddle and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The healer was already urging Salimeh out the door, and Daniel flicked the reins and followed her.   
  
They broke into a gallop as they left the yard. Daniel prayed that they would be in time. 


	36. Chapter Forty-six

They did not slow as they traversed the winding streets; startled passersby ran for shelter, flinging curses and screams at their backs.   
  
The guardhouse was at the edge of the village, a squat, utilitarian structure made hideous by the gibbet and whipping frame displayed prominently in front of the building. Daniel loosed a strangled cry of relief; Casey's body was not dangling from the gibbet, nor was he trussed, naked and bleeding, to the frame.   
  
But there were other punishments possible for a runaway slave.   
  
Heart pounding so loud that it threatened to drown the muffled thud of the horses' tread, Daniel reined in Zeina before the door. The healer was already alight, and she steadied Daniel as he slid to the ground, his knees watery with fear and exertion.   
  
"Quickly," he gasped, stumbling toward the door.   
  
He flung open the door, ruthlessly trampling the memories of another door he had opened, and of how he had discovered Casey. The room was dim to his light-dazzled eyes, and he blinked and squinted into the gloom.   
  
A small table with three empty cups and three stools stood by the door. A fire burned brightly in the far corner, and a dark shape passed in front of it. Two men stood before a large table, their backs to Daniel. On the table...   
  
The back of his throat flooded with bile, and his entire body shook.   
  
"I am Daniel el-Rydal," he bellowed, making the men standing at the table start and turn. He locked his knees and stiffened his spine. The son of Yakob el-Rydal knew how to command men. "What are you doing to a member of my household?" His voice had dropped, and there was a steely edge to it that made one of the men step back.   
  
The man closest to the fire glanced at the other two, then stepped forward. He was holding a short, curved sword. The wicked blade flashed in the light, and Daniel looked pointedly at it. The man quickly set it aside.   
  
"I am Sergeant Farouk," he said, saluting smartly. "This slave is a runaway, Effendi, and we-"   
  
"He is no runaway." Daniel glared at Farouk and then looked at the still form stretched out on the table. His stomach turned, but he kept his voice level. "He is my valued companion. The information you were given is false."   
  
His eyes quickly ran over Casey's body as his hand gently rested on one bound foot. There were bruises on his torso, and a few small cuts, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. The bindings on his wrists and ankles were tight, however, and a gag covered half his face.   
  
"But Effendi, he has a slave brand and no papers," began the Sergeant.   
  
"He has no papers because we have been traveling, and I have not had access to a scribe." Daniel's tone was curt. "He was only recently freed."   
  
Taking a deep breath, his fingertips trailing up calf and thigh, across sharp hipbones and along vulnerable ribs, Daniel moved until he could see Casey's eyes. One was blackened and swollen, but the other one met his steadily. A small glint of moisture broke free from the corner of Casey's eye and trailed slowly down his temple.   
  
"Untie him," Daniel rasped, his trembling fingers working on the coarse cloth that covered Casey's mouth. He tugged it over Casey's head, and then pulled the filthy, wadded cloth from his mouth, holding his head gently as Casey retched and shuddered. "It is fortunate for you that his hands and feet are still attached to his body," Daniel continued, as the men quickly freed the bonds. "Else I would have performed the same punishment on each of you."   
  
"Fetch me water and return his clothing." Daniel was surprised to hear the healer's peremptory voice. He had completely forgotten she was there. "Gather together the possessions he had when you took him, including the money, and stow them on the Effendi's horses. And then you can wait outside until el-Rydal Effendi decides what to do with you."   
  
She appeared next to him, her gentle hands urging Casey to his side. When one of the men handed her a basin of water, she scooped out a cup and helped Casey take a few sips. "Hold him," she said softly, waiting until Daniel had wrapped his arm around Casey's shoulders before running her hands over his arms, back, torso and legs.   
  
"What did they do, Casey?" Daniel whispered, dropping a light kiss on his forehead. "Did they- Were you-"   
  
"No," Casey murmured. "Not yet. They were going to-" He stopped and trembled. Daniel's arms tightened. "To cut off my foot, first. Then take turns with me, and decide whether or not to take my hand, as well."   
  
"Ah, Casey..." Daniel's voice broke, and he buried his face in Casey's shoulder for a moment.   
  
"Effendi?" The healer stood beside him again.   
  
"Yes?" Daniel raised his face. "Can he be moved?"   
  
"He is not seriously injured." She handed Casey's shirt to Daniel, and began to guide Casey's feet into his trousers. "They will fade in a few days. I..." She frowned and turned away. "It would not be safe for you to return to Maleka's house, however. If you will permit, we will go to my home."   
  
Daniel stared at her, dumbfounded. An invitation to enter the home of a healer? It was unheard of.   
  
"You wish us to..." He could not continue.   
  
"Yes." She turned back to him, but would not meet his eyes. "It would be for the best."   
  
He helped Casey off the table, steadying him with his good arm. "Very well," he said slowly. "We are honored to accept your gracious invitation."   
  
She snorted. "Gracious? Never that, Effendi. But even the solitude of a healer must be broken in the event of necessity." Stooping, she helped Casey slip his feet into his boots, then stood, dusting off her hands. "Come. You must rest before you resume your journey tomorrow."   
  
The Sergeant and his men were waiting beside their horses. Their faces were pale, but Farouk did not flinch as Daniel faced him.   
  
"The false information you were given came from young Kaseem, in the house of Maleka." Daniel's arm ached, and he wanted nothing more than to leave immediately, but he had to finish this. "He is a foolish, vicious youth, who deserves to have his nostrils slit and his lips cut off for his actions." Ignoring Casey's gasp, he continued. "However, the healer assures me that my companion was not seriously injured. Therefore, ten lashes in the public square will suffice. See to it, Sergeant, and there will be no punishment for you or your men."   
  
His shoulders sagging in relief, the Sergeant straightened again. "It will be as you say, Effendi."   
  
"And Sergeant." Daniel stepped closer and lowered his voice. The man shot him an apprehensive look. "Do not be so quick to believe, in future. Especially when the source is tainted."   
  
"Thank you, Effendi." The Sergeant saluted, then nodded to his men, and they entered the guardhouse.   
  
"Come," said the healer. She insisted that Casey and Daniel ride, while she walked beside them.   
  
Daniel never wanted to see that village again. 


	37. Chapter Forty-seven

She led them through the outlying fields to a small, neat mudbrick house nestled in the shelter of a low cliff. The house was surrounded by a fragrant garden of herbs and vegetables, and a small stream ran between the house and the cliff.   
  
They fed and watered the horses, tethering them in the shade of the house. Daniel kept looking at Casey, and then looking away. His skin itched and his eyes burned.   
  
The healer stood before the door, her hand on the latch, as they waited behind her. Casey had refused Daniel's support, but his face grew pale as they waited.   
  
"We can stay outside," Daniel said softly. "There is no need for us to violate the sanctity of your home."   
  
She shot him a look over her shoulder and shook her head. "No. I am being foolish. Please." And she opened the door.   
  
The house was as neat inside as it was outside. A small bed stood in the corner, and a single chair and table were placed before the banked hearth. In a short space of time, Casey was sitting on the bed and Daniel on the chair, both sipping an infusion to ease their pain.   
  
"Tell us what happened when you were taken, Casey," she said, hanging up her cloak on a hook by the door and kneeling on a pillow beside the hearth. Beneath her cloak, she wore loose gray trousers and a plain overtunic. Both were practical and comfortable. Daniel stared at the fire.   
  
"It is simple enough," Casey replied softly. "I had purchased food, additional blankets, and two waterskins, when there was an outcry behind me. Before I knew what had happened, my arms were seized. The Sergeant exposed my arm with the mark, and asked for my papers. I did not even have time to answer before I was dragged through the streets to the guardhouse."   
  
He paused. Daniel's heart ached at the exhaustion in his voice, but he could not raise his eyes to Casey's face. There was a hard, cold lump in his belly.   
  
"Then," Casey continued, "they stripped me and bound me, and debated over their next course of action. I tried to tell them the circumstances, and to convince them to see you, Ma- Daniel, but they would not listen, and gagged me. Your arrival," he whispered, his voice cracking, "was a blessing from Ilmarinen."   
  
Daniel cleared his throat and glanced at Casey. "It was that damned Kaseem. He wished to be rid of you."   
  
Casey raised his eyes and looked solemnly at Daniel. "He wanted you." Daniel's face grew warm, and his gut twisted. He shook his head and Casey's eyes fell. "It was plain to see, Daniel. He hungered for you, and I was in his way."   
  
They were silent for a moment, and Daniel wanted nothing more than to cross the room and gather Casey in his arms. But he had brought this latest outrage on Casey by not immediately sending for a scribe to prepare the papers, by allowing Casey out on his own, by shirking his responsibilities. His father would be ashamed. It was just one more fault to weigh upon his shoulders. Even worse, he had responded to Kaseem's seduction, felt his flesh fill at that practiced touch, felt the burning desire deep within... He was no better than a rutting ram. He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his chest. Slowly he regained control, not trusting himself to speak until the tightness in his throat had eased. There were other questions to be asked and answered, however, and he could not afford the luxury of guilt. Not now.   
  
Finally, he turned to the healer. "Why did you come to me with the news? I did not think healers ever involved themselves in affairs outside their sphere."   
  
"We don't," she replied brusquely, her fingers picking at a small frayed place on the knee of her trousers.   
  
"Then why?" he persisted.   
  
"I cannot tell you much." She spoke slowly, the words dragged from her. "It is important that neither you nor your... companion come to harm while on your journey."   
  
"What?" Daniel sat up and gripped the arm of the chair tightly. "What do you know of our journey? Of us? Has my father sent-"   
  
"I know nothing of the circumstances that motivated your journey, Effendi." Her hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white. "I speak of... things outside the everyday realm our bodies inhabit."   
  
He stared at her, startled by her words. "Things outside..." A huge, choking laugh burst from him. "You jest! What have we to do with afreets?"   
  
She shook her head solemnly. "Afreets? No. They are tales told to frighten children."   
  
He quickly made the sign against evil. Not because he believed. Never think that. It was merely a habit, longstanding. "Then what do you speak of?" he challenged. "Of other tales, told to frighten men?"   
  
"No." Her face was pallid in the firelight. Casey shifted on the bed, and she glanced at him before meeting Daniel's eyes. "I speak of a tale passed down from time before time, a tale long forgotten, only spoken of in books, equally forgotten. A tale of two-"   
  
A muffled noise from the bed drew his eyes. Casey was leaning forward, his face intent. The raw patches at the corners of his mouth rebuked Daniel. "Kaksonen sielu," Casey whispered. "There are those who yet remember."   
  
With a nod, she raised her hand and made a strange gesture that Daniel had seen before; it was one that Casey had sometimes made. "Yes. Those who remember, and who have taken the first step along the path."   
  
"Willingly or unwillingly." His voice was almost drowned by the crackle of the fire.   
  
Daniel stared at them, his limbs heavy, his mind dull. By the Five, what did they mean? Long forgotten tales, still remembered? A path? And Casey, mouthing a barbaric phrase? He shook himself, as a dog would shake off water, and stood. How could the healer know anything about him? About Casey? Her words must be a trick. They were general enough that anyone could interpret them to their own liking. If she had her way, they would sit here for hours, trading vague hints and impossible conjectures. They would lower their guard from exhaustion and interest, and then...   
  
Allah be merciful!   
  
"She is in the pay of my father," he barked, pointing a shaking finger at her. "He has contacted her, told her to delay us, to lull us-"   
  
"No!" She sprang to her feet, her mouth open, her eyes impossibly wide.   
  
Casey scrambled over the bed. "Master, wait-"   
  
He turned to Casey, spreading his hands wide. "Can't you see? She was there, plotting, planning." Oh, he had been a fool. "It was too convenient that you were captured while I was... distracted. The guards would never have harmed you, for she just wanted us delayed." Casey shook his head, unbelieving, and Daniel strode to him, clasping his shoulder, *willing* him to see. "She offered us sanctuary in her own home, something no healer would do. She has diverted our minds with mystical nonsense, in order to keep us here."   
  
"No, Master." The backs of Casey's fingers gently brushed his cheek. "It is not nonsense. I have long known-"   
  
Daniel grasped his hand and held it tightly between them. "She has manipulated you, as she has me." He met Casey's eyes. "We must go, now. Every moment brings danger of discovery." With a deep breath, he played his final card. "If you will not accompany me, I will go alone."   
  
"No," whispered the healer.   
  
"But-" Casey's mouth snapped shut and he bowed his head.   
  
Daniel waited for a moment, then drew Casey to him. "Come with me," he murmured into Casey's hair. "We will find your son, and then..." He brushed his lips over Casey's forehead. "Then Dauid will send word that my father welcomes my return, and we shall be together."   
  
Casey nodded, but he did not look at Daniel, even when he clasped Casey's chin and raised his head.   
  
"Effendi..."   
  
He turned his head and glared. "Keep quiet, woman. You have done enough harm." He released Casey and went to the door. "You can tell my father that I am innocent, but not a fool. He cannot force my return so easily." He opened the door and stepped into the waning light. "Casey, come."   
  
The sun was touching the horizon as the last of the village houses disappeared from view behind them. Daniel was exhausted, but he sat straighter in the saddle and faced the encroaching darkness. There was sanctuary ahead, a house of holy men, where travelers were welcome and no questions were asked. But it was still several hours distant. They could not travel in the dark, and would need a sheltered spot to sleep, if they wished to avoid lighting a fire.   
  
And Daniel did not wish to draw any attention.   
  
By the time he had found a small hollow of dry earth on the leeward side of a low cliff, the last vestiges of the sun were being swallowed up by the night. His arm throbbed with Zeina's every step, and Casey's drawn face and pinched lips testified to his own battle with pain. For a fleeting moment, Daniel regretted the warm, comfortable room they had left, and the joy of a hot supper, but he quickly suppressed his regrets. It was not pleasant to sleep on the cold ground, with only water and dry bread and cheese to dine upon, but they would be safe.   
  
They settled the horses, and spread their blankets on the soft sand. Casey lowered himself stiffly, stifling a groan. Daniel did not so much sit as collapse, twisting slightly to avoid hitting his aching arm, and Casey handed him the food and waterskin. He ate because it was necessary to maintain his strength, but he was too tired to taste even the strong, musty flavor of the cheese.  
  
Within moments of finishing their scant meal, they were stretched out on the blankets. Casey had begun to snore softly almost as soon as he lay down, but Daniel shifted restlessly. He could not find a comfortable position for his arm. Every time he fell down the well of sleep, he was roused by pain.   
  
The third time this occurred, he opened his eyes, surprised to see the landscape illuminated by a silvery light. The moon, almost full, had risen, and details of grass and rock were unexpectedly clear in the cold brightness.   
  
He dozed again, comforted by Casey's breathy sighs and snuffles. They would be up at first light, and in comfortable quarters by noon. He could sleep then, and Casey would-   
  
The sound of a pebble rolling was loud in the stillness.   
  
Daniel lifted his head to check on the horses. They were standing motionless where they had been hobbled, moonlight glinting off their glossy backs.   
  
A soft crunch brought him to full alertness, and he fingered the hilt of his knife.   
  
The figure moved swiftly to stand before him, its black shadow spilling across the sleeping Casey like a curse. It paused, and Daniel sat up suddenly, raising his knife. But he had forgotten his injury, and hissed sharply as sheets of fire raced up his arm.   
  
The figure shifted, one arm extended, the flash of metal. "Who is fleeing whom now, *Master*?" The voice was thick with mirth.   
  
No.   
  
Daniel stared, every nerve in his body screaming. Impossible. It could not be. Allah would not be so cruel.   
  
"Nothing to say, *Master*? That's unusual."   
  
He opened his mouth, choked, and tried again.   
  
"How- But you are-" Despite the cool night air, he was drenched in sweat, his skin clammy. He must be asleep, and yet... He breathed one word.   
  
"Guord-" 


	38. Chapter Forty-eight

The chuckle was razor-sharp and filled with madness.   
  
"Yes," Guord said, the knife glinting in the moonlight. "I am not dead, despite being condemned by your hand, el-Rydal." He paused, and his teeth gleamed as he snarled. "*Master*."   
  
Daniel clasped his knife tightly, sending a flare of pain up his arm, but kept his hand down and the knife out of sight. He opened his mouth, but there were no words.   
  
"I *am* disappointed," Guord said with a sneer. "I thought you would leap to your feet and defend yourself, son of Yakob." He looked at Casey, still sleeping, and then returned his gaze to Daniel. His smile broadened. "I shall enjoy this."   
  
The cold inside Daniel increased, and he wondered if he were going to lose control of his bowels. Oh, how Guord would laugh at that sign of weakness...   
  
The thought sent heat to his face and strength to his limbs, and he carefully moved a little away from Casey. He could not allow Guord to touch Casey again.   
  
"You live," he said quietly. "How?"   
  
Guord turned toward him and crossed his arms over his chest with a snort. "You are blind as well as stupid, *Master*. There are those who would be best pleased to see your father dead, and you stripped of your name and position. I am not alone in hating those who bear the name of el-Rydal," he paused for a moment and turned toward Casey. "And the catamites who gain their favor."   
  
Slowly, Daniel drew his legs up. He might be able to spring at Guord from this position...   
  
"Don't move."   
  
Guord shifted around, his arm raised. Daniel froze, his mind racing. His fingers gripped the hilt of his knife, but he could not throw the knife and hit Guord - not with his injured arm. Setting his jaw, he spared the time for one brief curse.   
  
"Who cut your bonds and rescued you?" he asked quietly. If he could only buy some time...   
  
Guord laughed mirthlessly. "So, the mighty intelligence of el-Rydal does not know this." He tilted his head to one side, as if considering, and then huffed out a chuckle. "No, I think not-"   
  
"Master?" Casey murmured sleepily, rolling toward Daniel.   
  
Oh, Allah, no...   
  
Casey's hand reached for him, and for one heart-stopping moment, Daniel thought Guord would simply lean over and slit Casey's throat.   
  
"Mas-" The word ended in a gasp as he came fully awake. Daniel wanted to reach for Casey, take him in his arms, protect him with his body, but he did not dare take his eyes from Guord.   
  
"We meet again, my whore, my tight-fitting *glove*." Guord raised his hand and stretched out the fingers, then clenched them in a fist. "Oh, I look forward to finishing what I began," he continued, and Daniel's gut twisted at the thought. "I know you want more, can take more." His voice was soft and oily. "I will use both my hands this time, catamite, and split you open like ripe fruit."   
  
Casey's harsh breath was audible in the silence. "You're dead," he blurted, rolling onto his back and sliding away from Daniel.   
  
Daniel's eyes flickered between them, his heart battering his chest. Good, Casey. Draw his eyes from me for a moment...   
  
Guord took a step toward Casey. "You cannot escape me, whore. That fool Shaul thought he was using *me*." Daniel bit his lip to keep from crying out at the news, and Guord continued. "But I played him so well that he thought it was all his own idea. That bitch Salaeh, as well." Casey slid back farther, and Guord took another step toward him.   
  
"They helped you?" Casey whimpered, scooting awkwardly across the sand.   
  
"Helped *me*?" Guord sounded incensed. "They did not *help* me - they did exactly what I planned."   
  
Daniel slowly, so slowly, pulled his feet under him until he was squatting, balancing carefully.   
  
"But you were staked out, tied-" Casey's voice cut off as he backed into a boulder.   
  
"They arranged for a fool to cut my bonds and bring me a horse," he said, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. "A fool who was easily lured to the edge of the cliff, and whose body deceived you into thinking it was me."   
  
Ah. Daniel remembered the news from Ahmet ibn Ali Hassan about his cousin Zaeve. Zaeve had disappeared, hadn't he? Guord was turned toward Casey, as if he had forgotten Daniel completely. Daniel carefully shifted his knife to his good hand, waiting.   
  
"And you followed me?" Casey's eyes glittered in the moonlight. Was he checking Daniel's position? Distracting Guord until Daniel could attack? Daniel prayed it was so, and gathered his strength.   
  
"Yes. I am not finished with you. Not by any means. But first," Guord lunged forward abruptly, grabbing Casey's arm and jerking him to his feet. Daniel leapt up and took a step toward them, but Guord swung a struggling Casey in front of him, wrapped an arm across his chest and held the edge of his knife at Casey's throat.   
  
"First," Guord said softly, running his free hand up Casey's arm, "I must deal with you, Daniel el-Rydal. *Do* *not* *move*," he continued, as Daniel stepped to the left. Casey cried out and Guord cuffed the side of his head. A dark line trickled slowly down Casey's pale neck, and Daniel clenched his hands, breathing harshly.   
  
It was his fault; he had allowed this to happen. His throat tightened and his stomach lurched as Guord forced Casey's chin up, and slid his hand down Casey's chest and abdomen to cup his genitals. His fingers moved, and Casey let out a strangled moan.   
  
"Drop the knife, el-Rydal." Guord's voice was cold, and his fingers tightened. Casey whimpered. "Drop it!"   
  
Daniel let the knife fall. His rage flared and then, miraculously, it turned to ice. He was calm, and his mind raced, searching for an opening, any moment of weakness.   
  
"On your knees," Guord ordered, forcing Casey's chin up farther.   
  
Dropping to his knees, Daniel hoarded his strength and waited.   
  
With a laugh, Guord released Casey's groin and shoved up his tunic, tugging at the waist of his trousers. Breathing shallowly, the knife pressed into the curve between jaw and neck, Casey closed his eyes as Guord ripped the material, pulling his trousers down below his hips.   
  
Daniel watched, his muscles taut, ready.   
  
Guord briefly fingered Casey's lax cock, and then, grinning manically, slid his hand across Casey's hipbone. He grabbed it, pushing Casey's hips around. "That's right," he crooned. "Turn, my whore, so that your *Master* can see everything." With a moan, Casey turned his body, presenting his bare ass to Daniel. His neck twisted horribly, his head held in place by the knife at his throat.   
  
Guord's hand covered each pale cheek in turn, squeezing and stroking them roughly. Casey bit back a gasp as Guord slid his hand between Casey's cheeks. His body arched and he wailed as Guord's fingers disappeared inside him.   
  
Guord chuckled, and he looked down at his fingers buried in Casey's ass.   
  
Daniel sprang.   
  
Daniel moved so quickly that his shoulder hit Guord's side before the other man even had time to look up.   
  
It was like hitting a wall, and his stomach twisted with pain as his injured arm slammed into Guord. He heard Casey yell as he scrabbled for Guord's legs, trying to bring him down.   
  
Fingers tore at his face and he snapped at them, biting down like a dog, ripping, tearing. A scream, and he flew backward, dizzy from the kick that landed on his hip. Another kick caught him in the ribs, and he lay curled in the sand, struggling to catch his breath.   
  
"*Fool*!"   
  
Guord stumbled toward him, his arm raised, his hand streaked with blood, knife blade flashing in the moonlight.   
  
Daniel twisted, raising his arm to shield his head. Pain flared from elbow to wrist, and he bit back a scream, turning, rolling away.   
  
Guord followed him, his feet close to Daniel's side. Daniel panted, clutching at his arm with a hand that quickly grew slick with blood, digging in his heels and pushing back, away from Guord. The cliff at his back stopped him abruptly.   
  
"I knew you were a fool, el-Rydal, but I never believed you were stupid enough to attack an armed man," Guord spat. A small, satisfied smile touched his lips as he hefted the knife in his hand and looked consideringly at Daniel. "Oh, yes, I shall enjoy this." Raising his hand, he took a step forward.   
  
Daniel gasped as a pale form flew at Guord from the side, arms high above its head. Casey! Guord screamed and staggered as Casey's hands hit him in the back, but he swept an impatient arm behind him, and Daniel cried out as Casey landed hard on the sand and lay still.   
  
"He shall *pay* for that." Guord did not spare Casey a glance. He lifted the knife and dove for Daniel.   
  
Rolling and scrabbling across the sand, Daniel dodged the blade, yelping when it streaked lightly across his ribs. He kicked out, and Guord's head snapped back, his arm flailing. The blade glittered, red and silver, and plunged into Daniel's thigh.   
  
Oh, Allah, the pain! His lungs were seared, he could not breathe or cry out...   
  
A wild scream - not his - jerked his head around. Casey, mouth open wide, throat pouring out a ferocious sound that shredded the stillness, staggered to his feet and rushed at them. Guord turned his head and smiled, fingers clutching at Casey's bare leg. With a curse that Daniel did not understand, Casey pulled free of Guord's grasp and flung himself on Guord's back.   
  
Daniel's head swam, and he could only watch as Casey straddled Guord's back and grabbed the knife - knife? - buried between Guord's shoulderblades. Guord screamed and rolled to his side as Casey wrenched out the knife and slammed it back.   
  
Gagging on the bile that rose, bitter as gall, in his throat, Daniel pulled the knife from his thigh and reeled, dizzy. He pressed the heel of his hand against the wound, blinking back tears and desperately trying to focus on the figures before him.   
  
Guord lay on his side, coughing, choking. Daniel wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing them; only then did he see Casey's hands wrapped around Guord's throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh under his jaw.   
  
Bulging eyes met his, unbelieving. Froth bubbled at pale lips, and spittle flecked the pallid chin and cheeks. Casey spoke, his voice, fierce and pitiless, rising and falling in unintelligible cadences that chilled Daniel's heart.   
  
Guord gasped and retched. His limbs twitched, his head jerked. Casey's fingers squeezed, unrelenting.   
  
With a shudder, Guord rolled onto his stomach, and Daniel could see Casey, clinging to his back. His face was blank, like the carving of a barbaric stone god. Only his harsh breathing signaled that he was still flesh and bone.   
  
Guord lay still for a long time before Casey unwrapped his hands from around that thick throat. He was panting, his breath hitching like that of a crying child.   
  
"He is dead, Casey." Daniel's voice was a whisper.   
  
Casey slowly raised his head and looked at Daniel. His cheeks were wet, and he raised a hand, scrubbing at his face.   
  
"I know," he replied hoarsely.   
  
Daniel's head swam, and he turned to his side, retching dryly. He pressed his blood-slick hand hard against his thigh and closed his eyes. 


	39. Chapter Forty-nine

Gentle hands touched his thigh, and he groaned and winced.   
  
"I'm sorry, Daniel."   
  
He forced his eyes open. Casey knelt beside him, his face pale in the moonlight. He held a small pot of salve and turned to Daniel.   
  
"I will have to cut your trousers away from the wound before I can apply the salve and bind it," he said softly.   
  
Daniel shook his head. "It's too deep." He gritted his teeth as pain stabbed through his thigh.   
  
"I know. It's only a temporary measure." Casey sounded impatient. "I have to get you to the holy men so that your wounds can be properly treated."   
  
Daniel sighed. Casey was right. At least the salve would help dull some of the pain. His stomach turned at the thought of riding in his condition.   
  
"Very well," he said shortly.   
  
Casey picked up Guord's blood-stained knife, and Daniel gave a chuff of surprise. Casey looked up at him.   
  
"Your knife is still in his back," he said bluntly. "I will retrieve it before we leave."   
  
Daniel fainted as Casey worked, and was grateful that Casey didn't rouse him until he had finished dressing and binding his wounds. He felt queasy and weak and did not argue when Casey told him to stay where he was until they were ready to leave.   
  
Casey squatted beside his pack, his bare legs shining.   
  
"Put on a pair of my trousers," Daniel murmured, and Casey looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "How badly did he hurt you?" Daniel continued, as Casey turned and began to rummage through his pack.   
  
"Not too bad," Casey replied, pulling out a pair of trousers. "I pretended to be in more pain than I actually was."   
  
"Come here."   
  
"In a minute." Looking annoyed, Casey picked up the jar of salve. "I need to-"   
  
"Let me." Daniel raised his uninjured hand. When Casey hesitated, he sighed impatiently. "I will be gentle."   
  
"I know." Casey bowed his head and handed Daniel the jar. "I... I just..." His voice shook.   
  
Daniel dropped the jar and stroked Casey's thigh. "I know, I know," he soothed. Rage at Guord gave him strength. "I just want to make sure you aren't severely injured."   
  
With a nod, Casey turned and presented his ass to Daniel. After a moment, Casey grabbed his cheeks with his hands and spread them, opening himself to Daniel's inspection. Very gently, using one fingertip, Daniel stroked Casey's bruised and swollen hole. Casey shook, a whimper cut off abruptly. Daniel was relieved: there was a little tearing, but not much, and the bleeding had already stopped. Coating his fingertip with salve, he spread it around the muscle and then slid the tip inside. He could feel more damage inside, but Casey, like he, would have to wait for further attention until they arrived at the house of the holy men.   
  
Casey let out a noisy breath when Daniel removed his finger and said "Put on the trousers."   
  
Once he was dressed again, Casey went over to the mound that was Guord's body, and, placing his foot in the center of Guord's back, pulled out Daniel's knife with a sickening sound. He wiped it clean on the sand, then returned it to Daniel.   
  
Daniel nodded at Guord's knife. "Take that one, and carry it with you." Casey looked at him for a long moment, then slipped it inside his boot.   
  
The horses were restless; they did not like the smell of blood. With a sound of disgust, Casey grabbed Guord's feet and dragged his body into the brush. Daniel breathed easier once it was out of sight, and he slowly levered himself up until he was sitting. He snagged his pack and tied it shut, awkward with his injuries.   
  
Casey returned, leading the horses, and he glared at Daniel. "You should have stayed down," he snapped. "It's going to be bad enough to get you onto Zeina and you will have trouble staying there."   
  
Daniel's back stiffened at Casey's tone. Who the hell was *he* to say what an el-Rydal could endure? "I'll manage."   
  
Casey snorted. Daniel narrowed his eyes and turned slowly, getting his knees under him.   
  
"You stubborn..." Casey grabbed him under his arms and pulled him upright. Daniel bit his lip and stifled a scream of pain. He would not... He would not... He swayed in Casey's arms, his head swimming.   
  
Somehow, slowly, painfully, teetering on boulders and muttering curses, they both mounted Zeina. Daniel sat in front, surrounded by Casey's strong arms. Before he mounted, he had insisted that Casey pad the saddle with his cloak. Daniel would never admit his terror that Casey would hemorrhage to death on the journey, but he heard Casey's gasp of pain when he sat back on the saddle, and knew he had been right to insist.   
  
The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten into gray as they returned to the road and headed west. Daniel held the pommel tightly with his good hand and swayed from side to side as Zeina walked - his right leg was useless. Casey held him as steady as possible, given his own awkward seat, and Daniel wondered as he bowed his head, fighting nausea, whether or not they would be able to stay on long enough to reach the holy men.   
  
"You will *not* die on me," Casey muttered as he dragged Daniel upright on the saddle again. The sun was high, and the road before them shimmered in the heat.   
  
Daniel groaned, his head simultaneously light as a bird in flight and as heavy as the rocks that tumbled down the cliff. "I have no intention of dying," he whispered, leaning his head back against Casey's shoulder and closing his eyes.   
  
Casey snorted, and his arms tightened around Daniel. "I'm sure you don't. You'd only die if you could annoy someone by doing so."   
  
Daniel laughed weakly, but did not open his eyes. His face was damp, and his skin clammy. If not for Casey's arms holding him upright, he would have landed in the dust hours ago.   
  
"How much farther?" Casey asked gently.   
  
"Soon..." Daniel swallowed hard and his head lolled on Casey's shoulder. The ground tilted, the sky whirled, and blackness rushed up to meet him. 


	40. Chapter Fifty

Voices, sharp and fearful, then softening quickly, roused him. He groaned and tried to lift his head. A hand held it firmly, a voice murmured in his ear.   
  
"All is well."   
  
Hands pulled at him, and he slid to the side, falling into a web of strong arms. He was lifted, carried easily for several long moments, and then deposited gently onto softness. More hands pulled on his clothing, unfastening, untucking, unwrapping Casey's awkward bandages, sliding shirt and trousers carefully off his massively heavy limbs. A quiet voice spoke with authority, and a hand rested on his forehead.   
  
He forced his eyelids open. A thin face, bearded and hawk-nosed, hung above him. Warm brown eyes met his briefly, and flickered over his body.   
  
Daniel turned his head, blinking. A two white-clad figures moved around the bright room, but he did not see... Where was he?   
  
"Casey?" he croaked, then licked his lips and tried again. "Where is Casey?"   
  
There was a hubbub on the other side of the room, and Casey's voice called out, "I'm here."   
  
"Casey?" He turned his head and tried to sit up, but a thin brown hand rested on the center of his chest, and he could not move. A sliver of panic pierced his chest, and he struggled in vain. "Casey?"   
  
"I'm here." Casey suddenly appeared at his side, his face pale, with darkening bruises along his cheeks, jaw and neck. A thin line of red at the curve of jaw and throat made Daniel's stomach turn. Casey clasped Daniel's uninjured hand and raised his fingers to his lips.   
  
Daniel squeezed Casey's fingers in a watery grip. Allah, he was tired... He turned to the man hovering beside his bed. "Are you the healer?" Even those few words exhausted him, but he forced his eyes to remain open. The man nodded. "My companion has been brutally used," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper. "See to his injuries, and treat him gently and with great respect."   
  
Casey coughed, and Daniel turned back to him. He was running the back of his hand over his eyes, sniffling. "My injuries will keep for the moment," Casey said roughly. "You worry about yourself."   
  
Daniel snorted and relaxed into the soft mattress. But he did not loosen his fingers, and Casey remained by his side as the healer and his attendants cleaned and dressed his wounds. The process was too uncomfortable for him to sleep, but he rested, hoarding his strength.   
  
At last, clean and covered with a light linen sheet, he pulled Casey's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles. Casey suddenly stifled a moan, and his fingers tightened on Daniel's. Daniel's eyes flew open.   
  
Casey was bent over a small table that had been carried to Daniel's bedside. His shirt was rucked up to his waist, and the healer stood behind him, holding a watersack fitted with a long nozzle. Daniel recognized it with a lurch of his heart. No, Allah, no...   
  
"No!" His voice was harsh. "Do not use that on him!"   
  
The healer looked up, his forehead furrowed. "But Effendi, he must be cleansed before I can tend to his wounds."   
  
"Not with that," Daniel replied adamantly.   
  
The healer's face darkened and he frowned. "Without cleansing, his wounds will not heal properly."   
  
Stifling his reply, Daniel released Casey's hand and struggled to sit up.   
  
"It's all right," Casey said, standing, his hand pulling at Daniel's shoulder, and the healer rushed to the other side of the bed and tried to press him back.   
  
"Help me sit up," Daniel snapped, batting away Casey's hand and glaring at the healer. "I will administer it myself."   
  
The healer gasped and stared at Daniel, wide-eyed. "Effendi, you cannot! It is unclean to touch-"  
  
"Master, please," Casey pleaded, but Daniel did not look at him.   
  
"Master?" The healer looked confused. "He is your slave?" Before Daniel could speak, his expression cleared and he nodded. "Then of course you may cleanse him." He stepped back from the bed.   
  
Daniel opened his mouth to explain, but quickly closed it again. He would explain that Casey had been freed later, once his wounds had been treated.   
  
"Help me, slave," said the healer to Casey, and they carefully propped Daniel's back against the cushions. It hurt, by the Five it hurt to move, but Daniel pressed his lips together and only allowed himself a shaky sigh once he was sitting up.   
  
"Here is the watersack," said the healer, placing it on the bed at Daniel's elbow. "You should not try to turn, Effendi. Your slave can kneel on the bed."   
  
Daniel nodded. Casey silently climbed onto the bed.   
  
"Not that way, slave," the healer said brusquely. "Straddle your master's hips facing his feet, and present yourself to him."   
  
Daniel had a glimpse of Casey's white face before he turned away and awkwardly clambered over Daniel's legs. The healer tugged Casey's thigh. "Move closer to him so that he won't have as far to reach." Casey inched back, and then the healer reached up and pressed on his shoulder. "Bend over."   
  
Casey dropped to his hands, his harsh breaths loud in the quiet room. Daniel ran a soothing hand down his flank, and the healer pulled his shirt up his back.   
  
Daniel bit back a curse at what he could see clearly in the daylight. Casey's ass was bruised, his hole swollen and dark. The healer reached over and spread Casey's cheeks, revealing the damage even more clearly. Casey shuddered and clenched his cheeks.   
  
The healer pulled at him impatiently, stretching his hole. "Relax for your master."   
  
"Release him!" Daniel barked, and when the startled healer looked at him stupidly, he narrowed his eyes. "Do not touch him. I will treat his injuries, as I always have."   
  
The healer swallowed hard and pulled his hands away. Casey shifted on the bed.   
  
"I will be gentle," Daniel said softly, his hand caressing Casey's ass and flank. "Relax, Casey. You know how it is done. It will be over soon."   
  
After a few moments, he could feel Casey's muscles loosen beneath his fingers, and he murmured praise. He lifted the watersack and guided the greased nozzle into Casey's hole.   
  
"My beautiful Casey," he murmured, as he awkwardly squeezed the sack. Casey grunted as the water flowed into his gut. It was difficult for Daniel to squeeze with his one hand, but then the healer leaned forward and held the sack for him, lifting it slightly.   
  
Daniel continued to squeeze the sack, watching, fascinated, as Casey's hole twitched and clenched around the nozzle. At last the sack was empty, and he slid out the nozzle, pressing his fingers gently against Casey's hole.   
  
"How long must he hold the water?" he asked the healer, who was handing the empty sack to one of his assistants.   
  
"For a count of one hundred." The healer returned to the side of the bed, frowning at Daniel's hand pressed against Casey.   
  
"You heard, Casey," Daniel said quietly. "One. Two. Three..."   
  
Casey grunted and continued the count. He dropped to his elbows when he reached fifty, and by seventy he was groaning and shifting from side to side, sweat collecting in his crease. He was breathless and gasping when he reached ninety, his muscles jumping and twitching under Daniel's fingers.   
  
"One hundred," he gasped, and the two assistants helped him slide from the bed, leading him around the corner. He emerged several minutes later, leaning heavily on one of the assistants. His face was as white as parchment and gleamed with sweat.   
  
"What did you put in the water?" Daniel asked the healer angrily.   
  
He shrugged. "A few herbs, which accelerate the cleansing process." Daniel muttered a curse, and the healer gave him a reproving look. "It is not pleasant," the healer admitted casually, "but necessary in cases like these."   
  
Daniel nodded, although he wished Casey could have been spared that discomfort.   
  
The assistants helped Casey back onto the bed in the same position as before.   
  
Scooping up a fingerful of the unguent, Daniel ran it gently around Casey's hole, spreading it thickly over the swollen and bruised flesh. Daniel took more and slowly, carefully placed the tip of his finger on Casey's hole, pressing firmly. Casey whimpered as his finger disappeared inside, but he remained still as Daniel slid his finger in as far as it would go, and then out, twisting it to spread the unguent evenly.   
  
Another scoop, and his finger slid in easily. Casey shifted on his knees, and Daniel saw that his cock was filling. He suppressed his smile, and promised himself that he would fill that hole as soon as Casey had healed. His own cock twitched in agreement.   
  
He was startled when the healer bent over the bed, frowning in concentration as he looked at Casey's ass. In his enjoyment, Daniel had forgotten about the healer and his assistants witnessing their intimacies.   
  
"Is that sufficient?" he asked the healer, who tilted his head to one side and then nodded.   
  
Sliding out his finger with a final twist that sent a shudder through Casey, he leaned back, exhausted. Moving stiffly, Casey was helped off the bed. An assistant brought a bowl of water and washed Daniel's hands, patting them dry gently.   
  
The healer gave him a cup of bitter, warm tea to drink, and he swallowed it with difficulty.   
  
"Casey?" he said, relieved when he saw Casey across the room, pulling on a clean tunic.   
  
"Do not worry," murmured the healer, taking the cup from his suddenly clumsy hands. "He will stay with you. Sleep."   
  
Daniel's eyelids fluttered and grew heavy. He could not keep them open. Gentle fingers stroked his cheek and he smiled sleepily at Casey.   
  
"Sleep," Casey said softly.   
  
Daniel closed his eyes and knew no more. 


	41. Chapter Fifty-one

Shadowy hands reached for him, pulling him, forcing him away... He opened his mouth and called out, but his cry was drowned in a huge clamor that suddenly broke out, and he turned, hands outstretched, eyes damp with tears. Casey sat, chained and bleeding on the ground before him. His bruised lips opened, his filthy brow furrowed, and he spat at Daniel, then shouted 'liar, betrayer.' Daniel cried 'no!' but he did not make a sound, and he was borne away...   
  
With a start, Daniel opened his eyes. Where was he? He tried to raise himself when pain flared through his arm, ribs, and thigh, and he collapsed back on his pillow with a groan.   
  
"Daniel?"   
  
Casey's voice. He turned, his heart pounding with remembered fear. Casey's face appeared ghostly in the dim room, but Casey's hand was warm and alive and rested gently on his shoulder.   
  
"A dream," he panted, shaking his head. "It was only a dream."   
  
Casey stroked his shoulder. "You are safe," he said, not meeting Daniel's eyes. "Go back to sleep."   
  
Daniel rubbed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "What time is it?"   
  
"Almost nightfall." Casey looked up and gestured, and Daniel heard the door open and close. "Would you like water?"   
  
"Yes." Casey helped prop up his head and shoulders. Suddenly aware of his parched throat, Daniel eagerly drank from the cup that Casey held for him. He sank back with a sigh. "I must urinate," he muttered, uncomfortably aware of his full bladder. "Help me up."   
  
"No." Casey bent down and retrieved a long-necked bottle. "The healer said you are to remain in bed until at least tomorrow. Use this."   
  
Pressing his lips together, Daniel permitted Casey to position the bottle and relieved himself. Casey took the bottle around the corner and returned quickly.   
  
As he stepped back to the bed, the door opened and the healer appeared in a nimbus of light, his eyes bright. "You are awake," he said, setting his candle down beside the bed and taking Daniel's wrist in his fingers. He tilted his head to one side. "Good. Are you in pain?"   
  
"No." Daniel winced as the healer checked the bandages on his forearm, ribs and thigh. "It is uncomfortable, though."   
  
"I know." When he finished his examination, the healer drew the sheet back over Daniel and smiled. "I will send a bowl of soup and some soft bread for you. Your slave can-"   
  
"Casey is not my slave," Daniel blurted.   
  
"But he bears the mark," the healer replied, glancing from Daniel to Casey in confusion. "And you said-"   
  
"I was exhausted and in pain and not thinking clearly." Daniel felt his face go warm, but he met the healer's eyes. "I have recently freed him, but have not had the opportunity to draw up his papers of manumission."   
  
"I see." The healer looked solemnly at Daniel. "Then I will send a servant from the kitchen to assist you to-"   
  
"There is no need," Casey broke in. Daniel turned to him, surprised. "I will help him," Casey continued, his cheeks flushed. "I am familiar with his... preferences."   
  
"Very well," the healer replied slowly, his gaze traveling from Daniel to Casey and back again. Daniel forced himself not to squirm or look away from those piercing eyes. "If he wishes, he may remain and tend to you. But remember," his voice grew soft, "that although you, like all travelers, are welcome and may stay as long as you desire, we are a house of holy men. The words of the Five must be respected here, in deed, if not in thought."   
  
Daniel nodded. He had expected this requirement, although he had hoped it would not be made explicit. "I pledge that it shall be so."   
  
"And you?" The healer looked at Casey.   
  
A crease appeared between Casey's brows, and he glanced at Daniel. "I do not understand."   
  
The healer looked thoughtful. "You are an infidel?" he asked Casey.   
  
Casey swallowed hard but answered him quickly. "My gods are not your god, it is true, but I will not knowingly blaspheme in your house."   
  
"I will instruct him," Daniel said before the healer could respond. "And my pledge includes him. I will be responsible for his behavior while we are your guests."   
  
Casey's face darkened and he opened his mouth, but shut it when Daniel shook his head.   
  
"I accept your pledge." The healer nodded to them both, then turned and left the room.   
  
"You are responsible for my behavior?" Casey snapped as soon as the door closed and they were alone. "You have freed me - you said it to the healer! As a free man, I am responsible for my own behavior, el-Rydal Effendi."   
  
"Casey," Daniel sighed and bit back a groan as his ribs ached.   
  
"Or have you changed your mind again, *Master*?" Casey continued bitterly. "Shall you keep me dangling for a while longer?" He crossed his arms over his chest and moved to the window, looking out on the darkness. "Does it *amuse* you to toy with me so?" he muttered.   
  
"Casey, will you come here?"   
  
"Is that an *order*, Master?" His voice was cold.   
  
"No." Daniel shifted on the bed. "It is a request, because I cannot turn enough to see you clearly."   
  
Casey snorted, but slowly moved back to the bed. He stared down at Daniel, his face dark.   
  
"The healer meant that we should refrain from any sexual intimacy while we are here." Daniel held up his hand when Casey opened his mouth. "First, because the desires of the flesh should be abjured in a holy house, and second, because when one man lies with another it is a grievous sin."   
  
Casey looked stunned. "A sin?" His eyes darted around the room, then returned to Daniel. "But the slaves..."   
  
"Taking a slave is a duty, to show a legal claim to their body. Using a slave in that fashion is permitted, especially if the man has no wife, or one who cannot be bedded." His cheeks grew warm. "But if you are a free man, then..." He looked away, his throat suddenly tight.   
  
"No!" Casey shook his head, his face white. "No. What about Kaseem? He is freeborn, and he wanted you to take him."   
  
Daniel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and his ribs felt as if they were being pried apart. "There are those for whom the desire is greater than the fear of sinning. The Five instruct believers to pity them, and not to harm them, but they are forbidden to inherit their father's lands and possessions."   
  
He could not understand the words that Casey whispered, but he did not doubt they were a prayer to his heathen gods. Daniel opened his eyes. The sight of Casey standing beside his bed, arms outstretched, eyes squeezed shut, tears trailing slowly down his cheeks, murmuring in his barbaric tongue, nearly broke Daniel's heart. He had not forgotten the injunction, but he had ignored it, pretended it did not exist because he wanted this man, needed this man, body and soul.   
  
It was obvious that Allah had decided he was not worthy of mercy.   
  
The knock at the door startled him, and Casey opened his eyes with a gasp. He scrubbed the tears from his face as he went to the door, and relieved the servant of the tray of food.   
  
Settling the tray on the table beside the bed, Casey briskly tore off a piece of bread and soaked it in the soup. Daniel took it from his fingers.   
  
He looked at Casey's frozen expression. "You must be hungry, too. Eat something."   
  
A spasm of emotion, quickly controlled, crossed Casey's face. "I am not hungry. I ate earlier." He picked up the bowl and dipped the spoon into the rich broth. Daniel opened his mouth obediently, but was not at all surprised that it tasted like ashes. 


	42. Chapter Fifty-two

Feeling groggy from too little sleep and stiff and sore from his injuries, Daniel nevertheless requested the services of a scribe after he had breakfasted. Casey had insisted on attending him, although he was silent and pale and answered only when directly addressed. He had assured Daniel that his injuries were healing, but he had refused Daniel's offer of help apply the salve. Daniel's only consolation was that Casey had also refused the attentions of the healer and his staff. After a heated argument, the healer had given in, and Casey was shown into a small room where he could minister to himself.

The scribe arrived and settled himself at the low table, setting out parchment and ink and looking at Daniel expectantly.

"Your desire, Effendi?"

Daniel bit back the words that rose unbidden to his lips and nodded solemnly. "You will prepare a manumission."

The scribe mirrored his nod and dipped his pen into the ink. "Your name, Effendi?"

"Daniel el-Rydal."

The scribe began the document with a flourish. "And the name of the slave to be manumitted?"

"Casey Mackall." He swallowed hard, his throat tight and dry.

"Very good," the scribe murmured, bending over the parchment.

After a few moments Daniel became aware of a still figure standing near the window. Casey.

"There." The scribe's pen swooped across the parchment, and he carefully set the damp parchment aside. "Will you be able to sign the manumission, Effendi? Or would you prefer to make a mark?" He glanced at Daniel's bandaged arm.

"I will sign it."

A small movement, immediately aborted, drew his eyes to Casey. He was staring at Daniel, his face expressionless.

The scribe rose and bowed. "Your signature must be witnessed, Effendi. I will return in a moment with a suitable individual."

Daniel nodded, his eyes returning to Casey. "Did you think I had conveniently forgotten my pledge? That I would not be willing to hold to my word?"

Casey turned abruptly, his back to Daniel. The morning light from the window shone off his sun-bleached hair and spilled over his stiff shoulders. "No, I didn't."

"No," Daniel echoed softly. "I am an el-Rydal, and-"

With a bark of laughter, Casey spun around. "Oh, believe me, I had not forgotten that, Effendi. I could never forget that you are an el-Rydal."

"Casey?" Daniel stared at him stupidly. What had he said?

"I am suitably grateful, of course," Casey continued, his voice harsh. "I appreciate the condescension you show me by returning my freedom. We will not speak of the reason why my freedom was forfeited in the first place, nor what I have been subjected to in the meantime. No, those are matters that-"

"Casey?" He could hardly believe his ears, and a spark of anger grew in his belly. How could he say those things? How *dare* he...

Casey's mouth snapped shut and he wrapped his arms around his torso, as if he were chilled to the bone. His face crumpled, and he turned back to the window.

And then he understood. Daniel's heart thudded painfully in his chest, and his anger grew. "What more can I do, Casey? I did not make the law."

"You should have told me."

Daniel closed his burning eyes. "I didn't tell you because I didn't wish to think about it. I didn't tell you because it has nothing to do with you. I am the only one affected by our... activities. There was no need for you to know."

"Nothing to..." Casey's voice broke. "I was *there*, Daniel. I was affected as well."

Daniel leaned his head back. His wounds throbbed, and small bursts of light were pulsing behind his eyelids. He felt nauseous. "I have returned your freedom, as I had promised. What else would you ask of me?"

His answer came, hard and cold. "Nothing."

The pulsing light strengthened, and he squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to fight back the nausea that was twisting his stomach. He breathed through his nose and clamped his jaw tight, willing the sickness away. After a few moments, he could open his eyes. Casey was no longer at the window, and he swallowed, the taste of bile bitter in his throat.

He would change his plans. Send word to Dauid that he was here, so that news of his exoneration would reach him as quickly as possible. Give Casey... He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. Give Casey the money they had, and send him on his way. Whether or not he was reunited with his son was no longer Daniel's concern. Casey had made that very clear.

Very well. Daniel could give him that, as well as his manumission papers.

He closed his eyes, wondering if Casey's son had the same soft, changeable hair, the same square jaw and long neck as his father...

"Effendi?"

The voice came from a great distance, and he muttered, annoyed.

"Effendi? The witness is coming."

The witness? Oh. Yes.

Daniel rubbed his eyes and yawned, wincing as his bruised ribs ached with the movement.

"Thank you," he said, blinking at the scribe who was gathering up parchment and pen.

"He is coming now. I will just..." The scribe laid the parchment over Daniel's lap, and cocked his head at the bandage on Daniel's arm. "If you cannot sign, a mark will do as well, Effendi. Whatever you can manage."

Daniel nodded, flexing the fingers on his injured arm. If he was careful, he should be able to produce a passable signature.

"Ah!" The scribe looked up. "Here he is. This way, Effendi."

Daniel looked up. "You!" he shouted, launching himself from the bed. He yelped as pain in his arm, ribs and thigh stabbed through him, but he continued to move forward, his arms outstretched, reaching, clasping...

"Effendi!" Two attendants and the scribe held him gently but firmly, pressing him back toward the bed.

"Let go of me!" He turned, trying to break free of their clinging hands. His nerves screamed and he yelled again, his leg buckling beneath him. Sweat beaded his brow and ran down his torso. He gasped, struggling against the hands, the pain, but he was still too weak. He could not fight them. Panting, he closed his eyes and went limp.

"Daniel?" Casey sounded breathless, as if he had been running. More footsteps, more voices. He groaned as they settled him back on the bed, and fingers briefly touched his shoulder. "Daniel? What has-" A gasp. "What are *you*-"

"What is happening?" The healer's voice was soft, but implacable. "Why this commotion?"

"I am afraid it is my fault." The voice was light and faintly amused. "I was asked to witness a document for a patient, and when I arrived, the Effendi... became distraught."

Daniel pushed away the pain and opened his eyes. "What have you done with my wife?" He glared at the man across the room.

"Effendi?" The healer looked from one man to the other, confusion writ plain on his face.

"She is safe. She is here, if you wish to speak with her." Isak el-Yafe met his eyes solemnly. "But should I not ask what happened to you?"


	43. Chapter Fifty-three

"I wish to speak with her." Daniel struggled to keep his voice quiet, not to shout, not to lunge again at that infuriatingly calm figure.

"Very well." El-Yafe turned to the healer. "It is permitted?"

The healer's face was flushed and his eyes darted between Daniel and el-Yafe. He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, but only briefly. El-Rydal Effendi must rest."

An attendant was dispatched, and Daniel leaned back against the pillows. His stomach roiled, and when he lifted his hand, it shook. He quickly let it fall onto the blanket.

El-Yafe took a wary step toward him. "It was her own decision, Effendi." His voice was soft. "I did not coerce her."

Daniel coldly met his eyes. "We shall see," was all he said.

There was a pause. The scribe looked at Daniel and picked up the document from where it had fallen on the floor. "Effendi? Would you still-"

His voice startled Daniel, and he glanced at the heavy parchment, then at Casey. "Yes. Of course." He glared at the scribe. "Is there no one else?"

The scribe shook his head apologetically. "No, Effendi. The others..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

"It seems that necessity requires that I be beholden to you, el-Yafe Effendi." Daniel took a deep breath. Casey. He was doing this for Casey. "I apologize for my outburst."

"No apology is necessary. I have, after all, provoked your displeasure." El-Yafe bowed formally. "How may I assist you?"

Daniel motioned to the scribe and he placed the parchment on Daniel's lap. Handing him a pen already charged with ink, the scribe stepped back. Daniel gripped the pen awkwardly, gritting his teeth against the pain shooting through his arm. "I place my signature, freely given, on this document." Pinching his lips together tightly, he signed the parchment. He did not look at Casey. He did not want to see joy light Casey's face. Not when his heart was being sundered in two.

The scribe carefully took the pen from his shaking fingers, and then placed the parchment on the low table. El-Yafe knelt on a cushion and held out his hand for the pen. His eyes skimmed over the document and he gasped, turning so quickly that his sleeve brushed the parchment, threatening to send it to the floor again.

"You-" he choked out, eyes wide with surprise. "You are freeing him?"

Daniel nodded, his throat suddenly too tight for speech.

El-Yafe's gaze slid from Daniel's face and his eyes narrowed. "It is true, Herra Kyösti?"

"Yes," Casey said softly. "It is true."

Daniel glanced at him, startled at his pale face and tight mouth. Wrenching his eyes back to el-Yafe, Daniel raised his chin. "Will you sign, Effendi?" His voice was harsh.

"Yes." El-Yafe nodded once, his face solemn. "Oh, yes. I shall sign." He leaned over the table and placed his signature beneath Daniel's. Daniel rubbed his chest, trying to ease the hot, hard knot that checked his breath and prevented him from swallowing.

It was almost done.

The scribe sanded the signatures, then blew on them until the ink was dry. He carefully rolled up the parchment and handed it to Daniel with a flourish. "You may finish the manumission, Effendi."

Daniel took the parchment, willing his hand steady. Before he could turn to Casey, a small figure appeared in the doorway.

"Uncle Isak? You wish to see-" She gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "Husband!" And she turned to flee.

"Aloise!" The attendant grasped her arm and she twisted her head around, her face drained of all color. "Aloise, come here." El-Yafe held out his hand.

With an audible swallow, she straightened her thin shoulders and walked firmly over to el-Yafe. "Has he..." She darted a glance at Daniel, and the fear on her face made him blench. "Has my husband come for me?" Her flat voice quavered on the last word.

El-Yafe rested a hand on her shoulder and looked solemn. "My dear child, el-Rydal Effendi wishes to speak to you. Be a good girl and answer his questions."

She nodded and slowly turned to Daniel. Curtseying, she walked slowly to the side of his bed, only her eyes betraying her nervousness. "May Allah bless you, husband."

"And you, little one." Daniel tried to smile a little, just to ease the tension in her. "I am very glad that you are well and unharmed." He held out his hand and she stared at it for a moment before slipping her small fingers into his clasp. She gave him a tentative smile, and his chest ached. He glanced at el-Yafe and bit back the anger that rose in a black wave. "I was worried when I heard you had left. Tell me the truth, my wife." He squeezed her fingers lightly and she relaxed further. "Why did you leave? Were you so unhappy with me?"

She blushed and shook her head, her eyes falling. "No. You did not make me unhappy." Dimpling suddenly, she quickly smoothed the smile from her lips. "But my brother asked me-"

"Your brother?" Daniel glanced at el-Yafe. "I was told your brother had died..."

"No, he is alive," she replied, a smile lighting her face. "Uncle Isak found him and-"

"*Found* him?"

"Child," interrupted el-Yafe, gently touching her shoulder. She turned to him, frowning. "I will explain all this to el-Rydal Effendi. Answer his question, please."

"His question? Oh!" She chewed absently on her lower lip for a moment. "I left because I was lonely."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, nodding. Yes. Lonely. A child isolated by her age and her deafness. He could understand that. "And when your brother asked you..." He squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"When he asked me if I wanted to return home with him," her voice caught and she blinked twice, "I wanted to go home. I miss my home."

"But you are my wife," he replied gently. "We were making our own home."

She shook her head, a quick, definite no, and glanced across the bed. "Not with me. With Casey."

Oh, merciful Allah...

His face grew warm, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. "No, my dear. With you." He lifted her hand and pressed it to the side of his face. "Casey is a free man now, and will not stay with me." He heard a faint noise, a soft intake of air, behind him, but he ignored it. It was true. Casey was a free man. Casey was his *own* man. Not his, not Daniel's. Not anymore.

Aloise's eyes shone with tears, and her hand moved restlessly in his. "I want to go home, Daniel," she whispered. "My brother loves me."

"As do I," he said softly.

Her head moved from side to side. "As your sister, but not as your wife." Her voice was thick, and she looked up. Daniel did not need to turn to know who she was looking at. He took a shuddering breath, and before he could speak, she bowed her head. "Please let me go..."

By the Five, he was tired, in his body and his mind. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded and closed his eyes. "Go, then, child." And he released her hand.

"Effendi, you must rest." The healer's voice was sharp.

Soft lips brushed his cheek and were gone. He heard el-Yafe's quiet questions, and the healer's assurances that he could visit later. He remained unmoving as cool, dry fingers clasped his wrist and held it steady for a few moments. But when the healer tried to slip the parchment from his other hand, he opened his eyes.

"No."

The healer frowned. "You can do this later, Effendi."

"No. I have already delayed too long." He turned his head - Casey stood against the far wall, pale and solemn. "It must be finished now."

Casey approached slowly, a wary look in his eyes. Daniel tried to find enough moisture in his mouth to speak, to say the words he had promised to say. To release the man who meant more to him than wife, family, home...

His held up the rolled parchment and his eyes met Casey's. "From this day on, you are a free man, and your children and grandchildren shall be free. You are released from my service, and I make no further claim upon you." His voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, his lashes glistened. "Go then, Casey Makall. May Allah rain blessings upon you and yours." He held out the parchment. It rustled, but he could not still the trembling of his hand.

Casey took it without a word, his eyes dark, his lips pressed tightly together. He stepped back, pressing the roll of parchment to his chest, and turned.

Daniel closed his eyes and lay back against the pillows. He felt hollow, empty, as if some ghostly surgeon had laid open his chest and removed all that had made him human. He lay still, wondering how he could live without lungs and heart.

He had never imagined such pain.


	44. Chapter Fifty-four

Daniel obediently drank the bitter liquid pressed upon him by the healer, and the pain dulled as he drifted to sleep.

When he woke, shadows shifted across the walls as the oil lamps flickered. The door to his room closed gently, and the flames danced in the draught. He turned his head, expecting the healer, and was surprised to see el-Yafe's slave stealing forward, his slippered feet almost noiseless on the stone floor.

The slave checked his steps when he noticed Daniel's eyes on him, and he ducked his head and the tips of his ears flushed.

"Yes?" Daniel rasped, his throat as dry as dust. "Does your master wish to speak with me?"

"No, Effendi." The words were muffled.

"Then what are you doing here?" It was hard to swallow, and he stretched his arm toward the table, where a pitcher and cup sat. The slave hurried forward and poured water into the cup, holding it while Daniel drank thirstily.

Only when he had replaced the cup on the table and stepped back did he reply.

"I came to thank you."

Daniel's eyes drifted closed, but he forced them open and frowned, squinting slightly. "Thank me? Why?"

He shifted his weight uneasily, and Daniel suddenly noticed that he was not wearing a slave tunic. Instead, he was clad in decent trousers and a shirt, with embroidered slippers on his feet.

"For allowing my sister to return home with me."

Daniel stared.

"You? You're her..." His voice trailed off and he gaped.

He nodded. "Yes. I am her brother, Jaremiah ben Ghaduin."

"But-" Daniel's mouth snapped shut, and he nodded. "We were told you were dead."

Jarem's lips pressed together and he snorted. "No, not dead. Although I would have been if Isak el-Yafe had not happened upon me and sheltered me for a time."

Daniel slowly shook his head. It was incredible. Unbelievable. And yet...

"Your stepfather was reportedly inconsolable at your death." He raised his eyebrows.

Jarem chuckled without humor. "My stepfather is the one who wished me dead. Fortunately, I received word of his plot and fled. Unfortunately, I was captured by slavers and sold."

"Not to el-Yafe, certainly." Daniel remembered something el-Yafe had said about finding his- about finding ben Ghaduin along the roadside...

"No. To a- well, that is not important. We were on our way to the market in Dair al Abussia when the horse became ill. My master," he hesitated and his face reddened, "that is, the man to whom I was sold - started beating the poor creature. Isak happened along the road. He had two horses, and my master was happy to trade me for one. Isak fed me and cared for me until my... injuries had healed."

Daniel nodded. "And you stayed with him, ostensibly as his slave, to remain in hiding." It was a sensible decision, and the shame of his time as a slave would not matter to his people if he could regain power.

"Yes. It is not something of which I am proud, but my stepfather seemed to be firmly entrenched. I hoped..." He sighed and lifted his shoulders. "I hoped for many things, but especially to find my sister and return home to assert my rightful claim."

"And the fact that your stepfather is having difficulty maintaining the loyalty of the nobles will certainly help your cause."

Flashing him a smile, Jarem nodded. "I hope so."

"As will the presence of a noble wife," Daniel said drily.

Jarem's face flushed, but he met Daniel's eyes steadily. "Yes. That will help as well."

Daniel sighed. "I know I should swear vengeance on you for the double insult to my family, but," he said, his voice bitter, "at the moment I am as much an outcast as you, and I cannot find it in me to battle for those who would believe the worst of me."

"We will be gone in the morning," Jarem replied softly. "When the truth is known and you are welcomed back by your father, you can say that you did not encounter us."

"I shall not lie. I know how unhappy N'tale was in my father's household. I hope she will have a good life with you."

"I will try to make it so."

"Good." Daniel raised his hand. "Promise me one thing, my lord."

"If I can."

"Keep Aloise safe, and let her be happy," he said softly. "For all her youth, she was a good wife."

Jarem bowed his head. "That I can promise you." He stepped back and then paused. "She does love you, you know. I expect she always will."

Daniel's mouth twisted. "And I her. Thank you for your assurance."

"It is the least I could do." Jarem hesitated again. "I heard that you have freed-"

"Yes." Daniel bit off the word. "He has business in the east. Please allow him to travel with you when you leave in the morning." He closed his eyes.

"Travel with us?" Jarem sounded surprised. "Well, we shall see what the morning brings. Thank you, Effendi, for your understanding and good wishes. Farewell."

"Allah's blessings," Daniel said, but he did not open his eyes. The door closed quietly.

It was a long time before he slept. Images of Aloise, shy and sweet, of N'tale, hiding her kindness beneath a brusque manner, of Jarem, keenly intelligent, sitting at el-Yafe's knee, kept whirling through his tired brain. The sky outside his window was beginning to hint at the coming of dawn before he felt himself dragged back down into sleep.

A cool hand brushed his cheek and he stirred. It caressed him again, and he fought against the rising tide of wakefulness.

"Daniel." The voice was soft, but insistent. "Daniel, please."

The plea roused him and he rubbed his tired eyes hard before forcing them open. N'tale's pale face looked down upon him, a tentative smile on her lips.

"I am sorry to wake you," she whispered, stroking his forehead and smoothing the blanket across his chest. "But we are leaving in a few moments, and I had to thank you."

He blinked, his head muzzy from sleep. "Thank me? For what?"

Her face lit up in a broad smile and she cupped his cheek. "For releasing Aloise. For not swearing vengeance upon Jarem or me. For standing up to your father."

He snorted. "I will take credit for the first two, but as for the latter..." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "My father chose to believe the worst of me. I only left because if I had not, I would probably be dead now."

Nodding gravely, she stroked his cheek. "Your father is a good man, but he only sees what he wishes to see. You, however, are destined-" She broke off abruptly. "I hope the truth of the matter will be revealed soon, so that you can gain your rightful place."

His rightful place. He closed his eyes, struggling to draw breath. Oh yes, he had a rightful place, but when he returned the joy of that reunion would be as bitter as ashes in his mouth. He would be alone. No wife, no-

He quickly turned from that thought.

"Take care of her," he murmured, raising his hand and resting it on hers. "Keep her safe. Let her be happy. And if she thinks of me, remind her that I did love her."

"I know." N'tale kissed him on the forehead and stepped back, her hand pulling free of his. "And now you must rest. Allah's blessings on you, Son Daniel. Remember us with kindness and an open heart."

She was gone.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut. They were leaving in a few moments, their mounts were already saddled and ready for the journey. N'tale would ride with Jarem, Aloise with el-Yafe. And there would be another horse, with a single rider. Casey would join them, travel with them for a day, perhaps two, until he had to take the road to Zaheira to rescue his son.

Daniel forced himself to breathe evenly, until the burning in his chest eased. Then he began to plan. He must send a messenger to Dauid. He must rest and heal, and decide where to stay while he awaited word from his cousin. He must find another attendant, at least while he recovered from his injuries, since he could not impose on the brothers for much longer. He must...

His throat tightened and his chest ached. With a low moan, he wrapped his arms around his belly and turned his head into his pillow, stifling the sobs that shook his body and soul.


	45. Chapter Fifty-five

He had finished crying and had dried his face by the time the healer appeared in the doorway. His eyes felt swollen and hot, burning as much from lack of sleep as his earlier breakdown, but he acknowledged the healer calmly.

"I must send a message," he said as the healer took his pulse. "I shall require the scribe and a messenger."

"Of course." The healer frowned as he looked at Daniel's face, but he did not comment further. "I shall send them to you immediately after you have washed and breakfasted."

"Thank you. I am feeling better, and will not need your services after today." It was not quite a lie, nor was it the truth, but it answered his purposes. "But I know I cannot travel for several days yet. Is there a place nearby where I can stay?"

The healer nodded, folding his hands. "There is a guest house immediately outside our walls. All are welcome there, for as long as necessary."

"Good." Daniel lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together. Control. He could think it, say it, calmly and dispassionately. He must. He cleared his throat. "And I shall require an attendant, until I am well enough to care for myself. Surely there are-"

"An attendant?" the healer repeated, looking confused. "Why do you wish for another?"

Daniel's dry throat worked and he struggled for breath. Why was this so damned difficult? "He does not need much training. My needs are simple, and-" He broke off, staring.

The healer turned and nodded, gesturing at the table. "You may help him wash first," he said. "And I will have his breakfast sent up."

"Casey?" Daniel's voice shook, and he clamped his lips tightly shut.

Casey, dressed in a long shirt and gathered trousers, his hair pulled back into a thick braid, put down the steaming ewer on the bedside table and looked up, his eyes widening. "Didn't you sleep well? Were you in pain?" He leaned over the bed with a frown, his eyes flickering over Daniel's face.

"No, no..." Daniel shook his head, and his hand rose of its own accord, hovering a hair's breadth from Casey's cheek before falling to the blankets. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "You are supposed to be with el-Yafe."

Casey jerked back and glared at him. "Why am I supposed to be with el-Yafe?"

"Because you are free!" Daniel gestured wildly. "Because you must go to your son. Because you want to..." He flopped back into the pillows and closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened. He would not succumb, he would not think about why Casey had stayed.

"Yes, I am free," Casey replied, his words clipped. Water gurgled and splashed. "And I will go to my son. Soon. As for my wants... I am perfectly capable of deciding those myself."

A warm, wet cloth ran gently over Daniel's face, and he hesitated, choosing his words with care. The water felt good, the cloth clearing the salt tracks of his tears, soothing the swollen tissues around his eyes. "I apologize for my presumption. I thought you would want to leave as soon as possible."

The sound of Casey's swallow was loud in the still room. "Accepted," Casey replied quietly. "As for my leaving... I have waited this long. A few more days will not matter."

Daniel nodded. He allowed Casey to wipe his arms, wincing slightly as the bandage was carefully removed and his wound cleaned. He kept his eyes closed, however. He was not entirely sure he could maintain control if he had to look at Casey. His torso was uncovered and bathed, and the wound examined. Finally, his legs were washed, and the injury to his thigh probed and muttered over. Only when he was dried and covered did he dare open his eyes.

"You are healing well," the healer pronounced, a smile curving his thin lips. "If you continue as well tomorrow, you can move to the guest house, with Casey to attend you."

Daniel glanced at Casey, who had gathered the towels and slop bowl, and was disappearing around the corner. "I shall not need the scribe," he said softly. "Just paper and pen, and the messenger."

"You cannot write yourself," began the healer.

"No. Casey will write it for me."

The healer's eyebrows rose, and he glanced at Casey, who had returned empty-handed. "Very well. I shall send up your breakfast first." He closed the door behind him.

Daniel stared at the whitewashed wall. He did not know what to say, even if he could force words through his dry throat. He heard the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

"El-Yafe Effendi believes that Prince ben Ghaduin will win the support of the nobles," Casey said softly. There was a creak as he sat down on the chair. "And that he will defeat his stepfather."

Daniel nodded, still staring at the wall. "I am glad to hear that. He is a good man."

"As are you. He told me of your understanding and generosity."

With a snort, Daniel shook his head. He squinted at the mortared stones around the window. "This was very little understanding and no generosity in my response. Merely practicality. What could I, injured and outcast, do to prevent them from leaving? I was simply maintaining my dignity, saving face."

"You made many people happy," Casey murmured. "The Prince, his sister, his soon-to-be wife, me..."

The stones blurred, and he blinked impatiently. "While betraying my father's name and sullying my family's honor." There was a knock at the door, and he glanced over as Casey crossed the room with a tray.

They did not speak as he ate, forcing down the food despite his tight throat and churning belly. Only silence allowed him to maintain his tenuous hold on calm, and he barely looked at Casey throughout the meal.

The healer kept his promise and sent up paper and pen after breakfast. It did not take long to compose a letter to Dauid, informing him where he would be staying for the next week. He did not mention meeting el-Yafe, Aloise, ben Ghaduin or N'tale, but he included a brief mention of Guord, and urged Dauid to investigate his dealings with Zaeve, Salaeh, and Shaul. The messenger left with the letter, promising to place it only into Dauid's hand.

"Three days hard ride there, and three to return," he muttered as the man clattered down the stairs.

"Enough time for the worst of your injuries to heal." Casey spoke matter-of-factly. "If the news is good, you could return within a fortnight."

And you? Would you return with me? Daniel wanted to ask, but he knew the answer. He shrugged. "Inshallah. It is as Allah wills."

Casey frowned but did not reply, and Daniel settled back into the pillows, pretending to sleep.

***

The next day, leaning heavily on Casey, he walked to the guest house. Collapsing onto the bed, Daniel cursed his weakness, but the healer assured him that he was over the worst and would recover quickly. He hoped so. Being around Casey was damnably difficult. Having to guard his words and touches, never presuming, continuously aware that it was Casey's choice to be with him, when it would be so easy for him to be elsewhere.

But he *was* with him. That knowledge was enough to warm a small portion of Daniel's heart, and he hoarded that warmth.

The days passed quickly, and Daniel was pleased when, on the fifth day, he did not need an afternoon nap. Casey had returned at dusk - he had settled Daniel in the sheltered courtyard after luncheon, and then disappeared into the monastery's library, which he had discovered his second day there. Usually he went while Daniel napped, but Daniel did not dare ask him to stay with him, instead. It was Casey's choice...

He had been watching the shadows climb the walls of the monastery and was thinking about returning to their rooms when Casey dashed into the courtyard, panting.

"I am so sorry, Daniel," he gasped, his hand pressing hard against his side. "I found a copy of-" He broke off as Daniel pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his arm and helping him to rise. "Wait, wait, I will help you."

Daniel gently brushed his hands aside. "I can do it," he said. "You should have stayed."

With a laugh, Casey gathered up the blanket and hovered close as Daniel walked slowly over the sun-warmed stones. "The light had gone," he said, his hand ready to offer support. "And I have too much respect for my eyesight to read by lamplight."

"A good policy." Daniel smiled, returning Casey's grin unselfconsciously. "What did you find?"

"Oh!" Casey looked bemused. "A copy of the 'Liber Oraculum.' I never expected that, thought it would be considered... blasphemous." He snorted, and said half to himself, "Probably is. They probably don't even know it's there. It was in a corner, underneath a stack of memoirs from the time of the Western wars."

"'Liber Oraculum?'" Daniel twisted his tongue around the strange words. He waited until Casey opened the door to their rooms and stepped carefully over the threshold into the dim room. "What is that?"

"Just a book," Casey replied, a shade too nonchalant. Daniel's ears pricked. "I wasn't expecting to see it here, that's all."

Lowering himself carefully onto the couch, Daniel glanced up at Casey's flushed face. "Where have you seen it before?"

There was a pause. "I don't remember." The lie hung in the air for a moment. Then Casey returned the blanket to Daniel's bed and moved around the room, lighting oil lamps. Daniel could practically see his excitement shimmering in the air around him, but he would not speak of the book further, even when Daniel asked him flat out what it was about.

Dinner would arrive soon, and Daniel steeled himself. He had made his decision that afternoon, and he would remain true to his choice.

"Casey, what about your son?"

It was as if he had doused a crackling flame. Casey stilled, shoulders drooping, and bowed his head. "What of him?" His voice was hoarse.

Daniel wished he had water, coffee, anything to moisten his parched mouth. "I am healed enough to care for myself," he said carefully. "The messenger should arrive within the next few days. I will return home as soon as Dauid says it is safe. You should go for him."

Casey turned away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I thought." His voice caught. "I thought you would... come with me."

Daniel sighed. "I must return home. My father will need my help, after... everything. And it will be necessary for me to take another..." His voice trailed off. He did not wish to take another wife. He did not wish to leave Casey. But he had no choice.

"Wife," Casey finished bleakly. "You could always take another slave in the meantime."

"No!" His own vehemence startled Daniel. "No," he repeated more calmly, "I will not do that, not after-" He cleared his throat. "I will give you the money I have. That should be sufficient for you to buy back your son and travel to the border. I do not know how difficult it will be to cross it, but I know of a place where you can get a map-"

"I have money," Casey interrupted, his voice harsh. "From El-Yafe Effendi. I do not need... payment for staying with you."

"Payment?" Daniel was startled. "It isn't- I did not mean-" Casey's words finally sank in, and Daniel flushed hotly. "You, of all people, should understand why I made the offer," he snapped.

Casey turned and looked at him steadily, his solemn face pale in the lamplight. "I do," he finally said, his voice soft. "And I honor you for it."

Ignoring the prick of pain beneath his breastbone, Daniel forced himself to continue. "Then you understand why I ask about your plans for your son. You must go for him. Tomorrow."

Casey lifted his chin and opened his mouth, then closed it quickly. He nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow."

"Good."

He had done what he had intended to do, and now he would have to pay the price.


	46. Chapter Fifty-six

He lay awake, although it was late and he was exhausted. His injuries throbbed dully. Casey was leaving in the morning. Daniel closed his eyes and rubbed them hard, relishing the gritty ache and swirling colors behind the lids. He twisted on the bed, cursing softly as the crumpled sheets tangled around his legs and feet. He could not get comfortable.

A movement in the shadows at the doorway drew his attention.

"Casey?"

"Yes. Can't you sleep? Does your leg hurt?" A pale shape approached the bed.

His leg? He almost laughed. "A little. It will pass." He squinted into the gloom. "Why are you awake?"

"A call of nature," was the quiet reply. "Can I get you something? Water? Tea? Something to ease the pain?"

He did laugh at that. Oh yes, Casey could give him something to ease his pain, but it was not an herb that the healer would provide. "No," he said, and turned onto his side, his back to Casey. A man could only endure so much before he would topple and shatter.

"Daniel." The hand on his shoulder was gentle, and he choked back a groan of pleasure at that simple touch. "Daniel, please, before I go..."

The hand smoothed down his arm, raising goosebumps on his flesh. He turned his face into the pillow, but he did not push Casey away. Warm fingers caressed his neck and shoulders, warm lips brushed his temple and pressed against the outer corner of his eye.

"Please, Daniel." Voice husky, hands trembling, Casey knelt behind him on the bed. "Fill my body one last time, master. Please."

With a low cry he twisted around, his arms encircling the body beside him. He tugged Casey down on top of him. Settling carefully, Casey's elbows and knees took most of his weight. Daniel lifted his face, mouth open, and Casey dove in for a kiss.

Lips and tongues were demanding, insistent. Daniel held Casey's skull cupped in his hands and wordlessly expressed his pain, fear and longing, possessing and being possessed. His groin warmed, his cock stirring at the heat and pressure, and his hands scrabbled at Casey's robe. Flesh. He wanted to feel it beneath his fingers, against his own skin.

Groaning, Casey wriggled and lifted slightly as he pulled the thin fabric up and over his head. Daniel's hands slid down his back, cupping his ass and pressing him tightly against his groin. The feel of Casey's hard, slick cock against his own made him dizzy with lust and longing and, oh, Allah, yes, he stumbled over the admission, with love.

Casey's thighs tightened around his hips and he rocked hard against Daniel, a driving, desperate rhythm. "In me, in me," he muttered, kissing and nipping at Daniel's jaw.

The words, the thought, almost tumbled him over the edge, but Daniel's hands clamped on Casey's hips and stilled his movement.

"Get the ointment from the table," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

Panting heavily, Casey scrambled off him and lunged for the table. In a heartbeat he was back, kneeling beside Daniel, the pot of ointment in his hand.

He opened the pot and guided Daniel's fingers into it, then dropped it to the floor and slipped off the bed. Turning away, he spread his legs and tilted his hips. "Quickly!" Casey reached back and spread his ass, bending over to expose himself completely to Daniel's gaze.

Daniel could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his vision swam. Quickly, quickly. He reached out and plunged two fingers into Casey, who bit back a scream and spread himself wider. Twisting his hand to spread the ointment, Daniel could not take his eyes from the sight of his fingers deep inside Casey.

He jerked them out and lay back, ignoring Casey's whimper and grunt. "Now," he ordered hoarsely, sliding his hand quickly down the length of his erection and then reaching for Casey.

Casey swung around and clambered onto the bed, straddling Daniel's hips. He leaned down and kissed Daniel hard, making his lips sting. Then he raised himself and rocked back - Daniel groaned as his cock slid greasily between the cheeks of Casey's ass.

Before he could do more than groan again, Casey had lifted his hips and reached back, guiding Daniel's cock into him, biting back a heartfelt curse. Daniel did not dare move. Casey panted, body tense, thighs trembling, with Daniel's cock barely inside. Daniel ran his hands up those quivering thighs, soothing, caressing.

"Relax," he murmured. "Open to me. Let me in." Casey's hand blindly searched for his and grabbed it, fingers almost painfully tight. "Relax, Casey. You know how to do this. Let me in."

Casey rocked once and Daniel bit his tongue, trying not to scream. So hot, so tight, so good. Where he should be, where he belonged. Another rock, and Casey sank farther onto Daniel's cock. With his free hand, Daniel stroked Casey's chest, then slid his fingers to cup Casey's rigid cock.

A gasp from Casey, a groan from Daniel, and Casey was sitting on Daniel's hips, Daniel's full length buried inside him. He paused for a moment, their harsh breaths sounding in syncopation, then the rhythm shifted, stuttered, and finally resumed, together.

Casey's bruising grip eased, and his chest rose and fell in a huge, shuddering sigh. He muttered something Daniel could not understand and then began to move.

Starting slowly, Casey quickly set a grueling pace as he rose and fell, Daniel's cock sliding smoothly into him. Daniel reached for him, trying to slow him down, knowing that he would not last long, but Casey's hips, slick with sweat, slipped from his fingers. He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat and pressure welled in his groin, spreading tendrils up his back and down his thighs. Not much longer.

Daniel wrapped his hand around Casey's cock and pumped him ruthlessly. With a strangled cry, Casey shivered and threw his head back, his hips jerking. Spots of heat splattered Daniel's stomach and chest, and Casey grunted and fell forward onto his hands, which landed on the bed above Daniel's shoulders. He leaned down and kissed Daniel as he continued to slam his hips against Daniel. Once, twice, and then Daniel bit the tongue in his mouth and bucked up, thrusting so deep that Casey's cock thickened and spurted again.

He did not want it to end, did not want to leave Casey and become separate, alone, again, but after he tugged Casey down onto his sticky chest and held him there, after Casey kissed his neck and bit his collarbone and squeezed him back, after their breathing slowed, his cock slowly softened and he slid from Casey's body with a groan and a shiver.

"No," he whispered, as Casey tried to roll to the side. But he soon had to let him go, to ease the ache in arm and ribs and thigh. Casey rolled onto his stomach beside him, arms crossed beneath his head, legs spread. Daniel settled onto his side and licked Casey's shoulder, sinking his teeth into the firm muscle there and kissing the rough mark of his brand. Casey sighed and wriggled, but did not move.

Daniel dragged his lips against Casey's biceps and stroked his back, smiling as Casey shifted his hips and spread his legs farther in invitation. Cupping each cheek briefly, Daniel slipped his fingers between them and rubbed Casey's slippery hole. A sigh encouraged him, and he carefully slid a finger inside, stroking gently.

"More," came the whispered request. He added a second finger, twisting them slightly, mindful of the tender muscle. Casey let out a strangled moan and his body quivered.

"More."

The third finger went in without any resistance. Casey lifted his hips slightly and grabbed a pillow, shoving it beneath him. He was panting, but not from pain. Daniel moved his hand and kissed Casey's arm and shoulder, hardly daring to breathe.

"More." It was not a request.

"It's too much," Daniel said regretfully. "I'll hurt you."

"No, you won't." Casey's voice was muffled, but he spoke with assurance. His hips canted up. "More!"

Daniel had barely slid the fourth finger inside him when Casey lifted his head and stared at him. He face was relaxed, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. "Your hand, Daniel. Give me your hand."

Daniel stared at him, horrified. He began to pull out his fingers, but Casey's arm whipped around and he held Daniel's hand tightly to him.

"I want it," he whispered harshly. "I want to know what it's like when *you* do it. Please!"

"I..." Daniel swallowed and his hand shook. "I can't, Casey. He *hurt* you! I can't do that."

Casey clenched around Daniel's fingers and then relaxed. "Yes, you can. Give me this before I go, master. Let me know what it's like when done with..." His voice quavered, and he cleared his throat. "Affection."

Affection. Oh, by all that is holy, if he only knew. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get his gasping breath under control. Casey wanted this. Casey asked him for it. A last request. He could do this.

"Tell me if it is too much," he said, shifting slightly to give his hand a better angle.

"It won't be."

Carefully Daniel positioned his thumb and pushed forward. Casey sucked in a shuddering breath, but he did not tighten, and Daniel's fingers slid in to the knuckle. Another push and a gasp from Casey, and one knuckle slipped inside, rubbing hard against the taut muscle. Each knuckle elicited another gasp from Casey, but he remained open and relaxed.

When the widest part of his hand stretched the muscle tightly, Daniel gently pushed forward and Casey groaned as the pressure lessened. Daniel panted and kissed Casey's back. Muscles fluttered around his hand as Casey shifted, moving to his knees, his face pressed against the mattress.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered.

"No." It was a groan, a promise, a prayer. "Move."

Taking a steadying breath, Daniel opened his fingers and twisted his arm. Casey groaned and raised his head, his eyes almost closed, his expression blissful. Sighing, Daniel kissed his hip and turned his arm the other direction, then slowly, so slowly, began to pull his hand out.

"No..." Casey moaned and shivered.

"Yes." Daniel continued to withdraw his hand, his own cock stirring at the sight of Casey's stretched hole. When his hand pulled free, Casey let out a whimper and slid flat, his hips moving restlessly. Daniel gently rubbed the loose muscle as it fluttered and gradually tightened, kissing Casey's back and ass.

With a gusty sigh, Casey rolled to his side, facing Daniel. His lips curved in a sleepy smile, and he slowly lifted his hand and ran his fingertips over Daniel's lips. "You have given me..." He shook his head and leaned forward, brushing his lips over Daniel's. "Kaksonen sielu," he whispered, sliding close and closing his eyes.

Daniel draped his arm over Casey and held him gently. How could he part from this man? How could he bid farewell to the man who held his heart, who was half his soul? He loved Casey, Allah help him, and in the morning he would have to watch him leave.

Daniel watched the sleeping man beside him and prayed that the sun would not rise.


End file.
